Just came back from watching King Richard with Kymaia and Tashuji. I wore my ‘Ninja dad’ tee from the morning race and Kym sat in my lap for the entire duration of the film, falling asleep midway. And Kym is a Serena fan! So, imagine how bad the film was.
Anyway, that man, Richard Williams, regardless of this boring, too-long, badly made hagiography of a film, is a nutcase who ought to have been committed long ago, but got lucky that his daughters turned out to be prodigies. He could have very easily destroyed them, as I am sure many a father has their children, in the pursuit of superstardom.
At the end of the film, we discussed what we saw. Tashuji claimed I had shades of him. I could see her point. And that thought is going to haunt me tonight.
Of course, I love pushing my daughter and shamelessly revel in her victories. But where is that thin line that I must not cross? I don’t know, and I hope I never reach it. But this film has been a cautionary tale for me to be on the lookout lest I cross over from the supportive father to the competitive asshole territory.
There’s no telling where and when it could happen. I just have to be on my guard. Because once I have made up my mind, I seldom listen to counsel at all, and while that personality trait is a bit too old to change now, I need to police myself even more strenuously from now on.
That said, I am so proud of little Baby bear today for her breaching the 30-minute barrier for 5km, setting a new Personal Best at 29m:09s, and coming runner up in the ladies’ group, that I am unable to forget what she achieved only this morning just because I saw a silly film about a narcissistic megalomaniac.
Now, THAT’S a thought worthy of ending the day on.
