Whose dream is it, anyway?

One of the questions this writer was asked recently was “Do many basketball players’ sons follow in their fathers’ footsteps?” My answer was, probably less than five percent, especially in local basketball. Looking at the sports pages over the past six months, you wouldn’t think that. Some of the most frequently mentioned names in the sport are Steph Curry, Klay Thompson, Kobe Paras, Ray Parks, Kiefer Ravena and, most recently, 13-year-old Kai Sotto. Apparently, a whole bunch of second-generation players are making the same commitment to the sport that their fathers have, and that is to take it as far as they can go.

For example, the Golden State Warriors have been a breath of fresh air to the NBA, not just as defending champions and record-setters, but with the way that they play the game. They find joy in teamwork, debunk theories around it, what a higher-percentage shot is, and just have fun playing. This team was engineered around Curry and Thompson, who are both sons of former NBA players. Being on the same team is a rarity in itself, despite the fact that there are 30 teams in the league and hundreds of players from all over the world. Their fathers, Dell Curry and Mychal Thompson (whose brother played as an import in the PBA), are probably beside themselves with pride.

In the Philippines, very few players even attempt to make it into the PBA once their fathers have played. Though the league’s history is relatively shorter than the NBA’s, 42 years is still plenty of time for sons to take after their Dads. True, today we talk about Kobe and Ray and Kai (son of retired center Ervin Sotto) and of course Kiefer. But just a few years ago, the only one we were really writing about was Japeth Aguilar, whose father Peter was likewise a PBA center. Considering the thousands of players who have come through the PBA, how come there are probably less than 20 second-generation players who have made it through the draft? It is a curious development.

Given that playing in the PBA implies a certain amount of brilliance, there may be some pressure – real or imagined – for the child of a PBA legend to likewise make it into the league. If you consider that Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird and other Dream Team members have not really contributed their progeny to the league that made them famous, that would be a fair point. Also, not that many children receive the same physical gifts of their fathers, the foremost being height. That alone may be a discouragement to trying to achieve the same level of attainment in the same field. After all, if your father is a giant and your mother isn’t, you’ll most likely end up a few inches shorter than your Dad, and basketball players are getting bigger, not smaller.

Secondly, many of the players who have achieved success were able to do it out of dire circumstances. Many took up the sport because it was the best way to get a free education and lift the standard of living of their families. But once they reach a level of comfort, they have escaped the very same situation that pushed them to succeed. So now, their children no longer have to play basketball to survive or earn a scholarship, though I’m sure almost all parents would wish their children would take the “easier” route and play the game professionally, as well. There are so many stories of doctors, lawyers, bankers and even entertainers who took after their mothers or fathers who were acknowledged experts in the same field. Besides, in many situations, you are groomed from an early age to take over the family clinic or law practice or financial portfolio. In basketball, physical size, desire, academic aptitude and other factors all come into play. Strangely, in sports, there seems to be a unique aversion to being compared to one’s familial predecessors.

How often have we seen parents shout at referees during high school basketball games, or criticize coaches for how their kids are handled? Come to think of it, I did my fair share of second-guessing referees when my boys were in high school, though I drew the line at trying to influence their coaches. I know I don’t like it when some armchair pundit tries to tell me how to do my job. There is always an extra burst of adrenaline when you share a passion with your children, and you want to save them effort and possible hurt or rejection. I even remember flying with my older son Vince to Davao for NBTC tryouts, if it would help him follow the basketball dream.

But when you think about it, maybe this is a good thing. If parents do not force their children to take up after them, it means that they respect their kids’ individual choices. I remember when my sons were on the collegiate B team of Ateneo, I was proud, and hoped they could continue to find their passion in the game I loved, even if it was at another school. However, they each decided to do something else, and we never discussed it. The fact is that I couldn’t be disappointed, because I had always encouraged them to follow their own dreams and not be persuaded by anyone else, not even me. After all, those are their dreams, not mine. And whatever they end up doing, I will be proud of them for finding their true calling, even if it isn’t in basketball or sports at all. I had my chance, I had my time. The world will belong to them, anyway. I couldn’t tell them how to find their happiness, because that is their journey. Whose dream is it, anyway? Will we be able to live with the regret and resentment when our children finally muster the courage to tell us that they’re unhappy doing what we forced them to? The next question is, can we be happy even if we don’t produce the next Steph Curry, Kobe Paras or Kai Sotto?