A Different Scoreboard for Life

Dads’ Survival Guide: Providing — Our Finances

I can’t see the score. On the livestream. For my kid’s hoops game.

Nothing is more frustrating. Hunched over my phone. In a parking lot. Trying to watch them play. Because we’re not permitted in the basketball venue. “Out of an abundance of caution.” (A phrase I’ve grown to loathe). And instead, we’re permitted to pay for a livestream service. Which never shows the scoreboard.

Oh, and there’s no sound. Not even the squeaking of sneakers. Or coaches yelling. A silent movie. Of players running back and forth. On my minuscule screen. With no clue of time remaining. Or the score.

Not that us Dads care. About winning or losing. Of course not. We just want our little ones to have fun. Right? Yeah, right.

As tykes, fun is paramount. When they’re older, outcomes matter. In sports. School. The arts. Life. The world is a competitive place. Nobody is handed a trophy. We have to earn ours. Through hard work. Diligence. Developing our craft. Whatever that craft may be.

We deal with scoreboards in most everything. Which is great, because Dads love keeping score.

Competition

Scoreboards are introduced early on. Grammar school activities. Organized. Or playground. Contests with victories. And defeats. Competitions. Even at that age. No different than Chess. Monopoly. Battleship. Or video games.

Grades. Test results. Rankings. Percentiles. Part of evaluations for college. Grad school. The first job. This is the way. Coveted posts. With limited spots. And loads of applicants.

All part of building one’s resume. To stand apart. From the rest of the horde. A career scorecard. Filled with University brands. Company labels. High profile names in one’s chosen field.

The workplace is no different. Everyone is assessed. Every year. Metrics. Targets. Thresholds of performance. No matter what our position in the organizational food chain. Partners. Programmers. Pencil pushers. All of us.

The Human Element

Society erects plenty of scoreboards. Defining achievers. Across an array of undertakings. Our culture’s standings. Manifesting in status. Fame. Influence. Anointing icons. The GOAT. The Oracle of Omaha. Hendrix. Obama. De Niro. Even Dude Perfect.

In each generation, a new crop climbs to the top of the heap. To be admired. Revered. Retweeted. Esteemed.

Many Dads find this exercise repugnant. The shallow, superficial promotion of celebs. Crowning some. While castigating others.

Yet, Dads are climbers, too. Instinctively. Innately. Doing our best. To be our best. The performance gene. Part of human design.

The tribal nature of our species. Spawning an intrinsic desire to join a group. Then, protect our position. Elevating ourselves. Over others. By demonstrating one’s value. Through triumphs. And everyday heroics.

All of this attainment-oriented hubbub. Coded into our DNA. Driving us forward. Professionally. Personally. In search of validation. Affirmation. Approval. “I’m good enough. Smart enough. And doggone it, people like me.” (a.k.a. Stuart Smalley.)

This is the human element. In all Dads. And the impetus for our need to know the score. Where we stand. Among our peers.

Financial Measures

So, how do Dads keep score at this stage?

Title at the firm. Founder. C-Something. Managing This-or-That. Perhaps the scope of our organization. Number of minions.

Or more family related. The feats of our offspring. Lead in the play. Captain. Top scorer. Oh boy. A slippery slope. Dads, defining one’s worth by our kid’s accolades. Let’s not go there.

What about Finances? Mula? Cash money?

Noooo. Dads would never be so haughty. Showy. Boasting about what we’ve banked.

Finances. Today’s universal measuring stick. To keep score. Defining the pecking order. For men, in particular.

Dads don’t brag about our wealth. Overtly. We proclaim our position more subtly. Subconsciously. Through possessions. Spending patterns. The places we live. Rides we drive. Brands we wear. Making a statement. About where we rank. That’s a fact.

Hey, we earned what we have. True. And we don’t need to apologize for success. Leveraging one’s talents. Outwitting others. To get to where we are. Indeed, we’re entitled to apply our assets in any way we choose.

So, what if Dads choose to change the scoreboard. Turn cultural metrics on their heads. Measure success by what we give away. Rather than what we accumulate. Based less on the size of our bank account. And more by the size of our impact. On others.

What if Dads choose to be great givers? The best, most awesome-est contributors. Ever. No matter how much we have. Investing in the less fortunate. Here in our community. Or around the world. Giving away with abandon. Uninhibited. With total disregard for convention. Generously sharing our financial blessings. With those who are less blessed.

Rewarding. Meaningful. Fulfilling. Scoring big by making others better. Wow.

Giving away more is no layup. There are tradeoffs involved. Tough decisions. Yet, that’s was Dads do best. Consider the options. And make the hard choices.

What a great lesson. For our kids. One they can watch every day. No livestream necessary.

Go Dads. Go.