| Like father, like son By Ethan J. Skolnick Dolphins Correspondent Posted June 15, 2003 A power tie. A power drill. A PowerBook. Absolute power over the remote control. Sorry, but none of that will cut it. Not today. Not as Father's Day gifts. Not considering the gifts these sons got from their fathers, never having needed to ask. Athletic gifts. The gifts that come from good genetics and the proper support. "Every father who has a son, or even now with a daughter, as soon as they are born, you think about tossing the ball with them, etc.," said former NFL running back Calvin Hill, father of NBA star Grant. "And as they get older and they start to dabble in those sports that they particularly care for, you try to encourage them. And from time to time, you allow yourself to imagine what it would be like if they got to the ultimate level. "But you try not to think about that because if you played professionally, you know the odds are very much against you. And the odds in successive generations are even more astronomical. So you don't want to pressure them. But then it's a pleasant surprise." If that is true, you'll find more surprises in sports than in a well-crafted movie thriller. The sons keep rising, in the East, North, South and West. South Floridians just welcomed a favorite son home -- quarterback Brian Griese, son of former Miami Dolphins quarterback Bob. Soon, there may be more juniors in the majors than at major state universities. Take the latest draft, featuring Tony Gwynn Jr. and Fernando Valenzuela Jr., not to mention Joe Gaetti (son of Gary), Brian Bannister (son of Floyd), Enrique Cruz (brother of Jose Jr., son of Jose Sr.), and Jose Virgil (son of Ozzie Jr., grandson of Ozzie Sr.). They could join the other three-generation combinations in the majors, the Bells and Boones and Hairstons. Don't knock it as nepotism. If the kids couldn't play, teams wouldn't pay. The NFL's New England Patriots didn't spend a fourth-round choice on Dan Klecko because of all the damage his father, Joe, a fellow nose tackle, used to do. Tampa Bay didn't burn a third-round choice on Chris Simms just so his Super Bowl-MVP father Phil would say sweet things about the Buccaneers on CBS. In fact, the younger Simms may have faced more heat at the University of Texas because of his bloodlines. The good and the bad Athletic children of athletes do get advantages. Calvin Hill said he believes Grant learned much about how to handle adversity and how to handle himself as a professional from watching Calvin and his peers. He has needed all of that, as he has coped with a career-stalling ankle injury. And Brian Griese isn't overwhelmed by fan attention. "They have been around it their whole [lives], and so I think they have just grown up that way and learned to accept it and to deal with it," Bob Griese said. "When we were leaving football games at Michigan, we would be walking out of the stadium together, and I kinda got a kick out of people running out for autographs and they ran by me and right to Brian." Yet don't think sons always get an easier run. The younger Griese certainly didn't get any more breaks in Denver because his father won two Super Bowls. And he won't get any more with the Dolphins. Quarterbacks never do, whatever their names, but sometimes stresses are intensified because of their names. "Frankly, the situation these guys are handling today is several levels bigger than what I handled back then because of the money, the media, the attention," said Jeff Kemp, an NFL quarterback like his father, Jack. "What Chris Simms had to face in college was just unbelievable." Desire has to be there The trick to succeeding under the circumstances? Free will. The son must want to play. That sounds simple, but it's not always the case. It was for Peyton Manning. At 7, he would listen to father Archie's old Mississippi tapes, and even re-create the action. Brian Griese felt kinship to his father for another reason. They bonded when Judi, Brian's mother and Bob's wife, died. Brian was 12. "There wasn't any pressure to play football," Brian Griese said. "My Dad said if you want to go play the violin, go play the violin. He understood the business, and that it wasn't all it was cracked up to be." Still, Brian chose the course. Bob recalls Brian picking up a football and saying, "Dad, I am going to make them forget about you. I am going to play quarterback." Brian calls himself "the only one dumb enough," with his older brothers playing fullback and safety. Brian wasn't fast or big enough. "So I was kind of relegated to the quarterback position," he said. "And the rest was history." For Brian, following his father was easy compared to something else. "Following John Elway." He did that in Denver. Jeff Kemp can relate to both of the Dolphins' top two quarterbacks. Like Jay Fiedler, he played at Dartmouth. Like Fiedler and Griese, he followed a legend in the NFL, in his case San Francisco's Joe Montana. Not that following his father was a snap. "You get more attention than you deserve, earlier," Jeff said. "It creates extra expectations and pressure you will be good because your Dad was. Manning and Griese were probably great at every stage, and maybe it wasn't that awkward. But I wasn't great." Kemp wasn't drafted after leading the Big Green in passing for two seasons. Still, he never stopped believing the NFL was achievable, not because his father's influence would help, and his surname would get him noticed. Rather, because he knew his father's history. "It gave me the vision that this was normal, that I'm going to be there," said Jeff, now the executive director of Families Northwest. "My dad played quarterback, I think I'll do that." And because of his belief, Jeff stuck 10 years in the NFL, throwing for 6,230 yards. Some lessons stuck, too. "My dad did a pretty awesome job of being my exhorter, my supporter, my biggest champion, without being pushy," Jeff said. "He didn't micromanage. He let me have my own life." Restraint is a trial for the athletic parent, especially one paid to watch football. Bob Griese actually broadcast his son's Rose Bowl win for Michigan, referring to him as "Griese." And that was not as odd as sitting in Don Shula's box and watching friends cheer when Brian threw a pick. Performers aren't naturally comfortable as spectators. Calvin Hill considers it particularly challenging for former pro athletes to honor their son's relationships with their coaches, when they think they know more. Parent can't shield child That lack of control, in Hill's view, makes the process tougher than when you go through it as an athlete. You want things to be perfect for your kids. You feel compelled to shelter them. "And you can't," said the Cowboys consultant. "Sometimes you may even see a situation where they are going to fall, and you'd like to cushion the blow, but they have to fall. Sometimes, they have to learn the hard way." Calvin thinks Grant's choice of basketball rather than football shielded him from some comparisons. But it's still the same general field, and "anytime a child has a parent that has had a level of success at anything, not just sports, if they go into the same field, they will feel some pressure." He thinks the level of support determines how they come out of it. The combination of good coaches and parents who are supportive but not pushy will help them survive the process, and create an enjoyable experience. "The problem is if people don't focus on their abilities, but focus on their parents, and create some sort of false expectation," he said. "Or if they are pushed into a sport not because they want to do it, but because it was expected of them." So Calvin, not knowing if Grant and his wife, Tamia, would have a boy or girl, advised his son to let the child know it was cool to be a cello player. The baby is a she. The same counsel applies. "My advice to parents is support your kids in whatever their interest might be," Brian Griese said. "It might not necessarily be the same thing you were interested in. But in the end, supporting the kids in their own decisions will be the best way to go." More power to you if you do. You might even get a surprise gift: The way they go may be to the pros. Ethan J. Skolnick writes for the South Florida Sun-Sentinel, a Tribune Publishing newspaper. |