I noticed this headline today and immediately thought of The Master: Fatherhood Puts Game in Perspective.

     It’s about Fred Taylor, an accomplished running back for the Jacksonville Jaguars (one of those teams I have never really gotten used to…).  He is amassing impressive career numbers but has not won a championship, which raises questions about his place in a broader historical context.  But he seems to keep it real:

In his younger days, Taylor, 31, used to think his career could not
be complete without at least one Pro Bowl appearance. That was before
he became a father and began to measure his legacy in the faces of his
four children.

He arrived home from practice Wednesday to find
his 4-year-old son, Inari, sprawled on the floor coloring in an
oversized dinosaur book. Taylor walked into the playroom and said, “Can
you say hi to Daddy?”

Inari glanced up and, flashing a smile as incandescent as Taylor’s, said, “Hi, Daddy!”

In a few minutes, Taylor would leave for a therapeutic massage, a
routine stop in his week when the dings in his muscular chassis are
rubbed out. But first, he lowered his 6-foot-1 frame onto the floor,
reached for the markers and engaged Inari.

 Now, this could just be a happy-talk puff piece – who knows what his family life is, really.  But let’s give him (and the writer) the benefit of the doubt.  He is doing the right thing here: stepping back from the debate about what his professional life might mean and embracing and cultivating his closest loving relationships.  Confucius is somewhere smiling.

     Of course, life is complicated, and it appears that Taylor has made his share of youthful mistakes:

When Taylor was in college, his high school sweetheart gave birth to a
daughter, Nataajah, who is 10 and does not live with him. After he was
drafted, Taylor found out he had fathered a son, Kelvin, who is 13 and
in the eighth grade. He was 6 when Taylor met him, and their connection
is not as close as he would like. “But I’m definitely trying to avoid
it being the same situation I had with my dad,” Taylor said. “We are
trying to make it better.”

     A Confucian family counselor might say that what is important in these cases is to stay involved, as he seems to intend.  Being a professional football player, he likely has some money, and he can use these resources to help with the continuing education of his older children.  Time, too, matters.  He needs to put in the time.

     Ultimately, he seems to deserve our accolades.  In a world of macho posturing and egotistical pursuit, he is presenting himself as a devoted father.  And his intentions – Mencius would say his heart – are in the right place:

Taylor said he did not meet his own father until he was in high school.
Having had no father to pattern himself after, Taylor takes his cues on
parenting from Andrea, who said she played disciplinarian and left the
tickling and roughhousing to her husband. “We’re really figuring out
this parenthood thing together,” she said, “and mastering it the best
we can.”

 It’s all about learning and improving.  That’s what Confucius would say…