While watching a Division I college basketball game a few years ago, my 10th-grade son asked that one question every parent dreads answering: “Dad, do you think I can play Division I basketball?”

So how do we answer that? Without lying. Without setting unreachable expectations. Without dashing dreams.

Fortunately, the crowd noise gave me a reason to ask him to repeat the question, even though I heard him perfectly clear the first time. The answers were racing through my head faster than the chants from the crowd for the home team. The only problem was there were many answers, but none that I liked for my then-average junior varsity player.

When I was his age I had dreams of following Michael Jordan to Chapel Hill and playing in the Dean Dome. The closest I ended up getting was sneaking into the back of the building on a business trip to see the rows of Carolina blue seats in person. My only college playing experience ended up being like that of so many others — intramurals.

So I answered him honestly.

“Son, at this point your goal needs to be to make the varsity team your junior or senior year,” I said. “No Division I players come from the junior varsity ranks. If you can do that, who knows? You’ll probably grow a bit in the next few years and if you work hard in the offseason, you’ll get stronger as well.”

His response was, “But should we start emailing college coaches now to make them aware of me?”

My answer: “The first question a college coach would ask is, ‘What are your varsity statistics this year?’”

So we continued to watch the game and coincidentally, a player appeared from the bench that I could envision my son emulating in a few years. He was average height, average quickness, one of the smartest players on the court and could nail a 3-pointer from anywhere.

So I told my son, “See that player? That could be you. It will take a lot of hard work and desire, but it could be.”

And I was being perfectly honest.

And then I followed that with, “But you know what? You’re only a sophomore. You might not want to play the game after your senior year for a variety of reasons. You might decide you want to spend your college years having fun and studying, not playing basketball around the clock.”

It was an honest statement. He just nodded, and would eventually follow in my intramural footsteps.

The bottom line is that when your child asks you a question about his or her athletic potential, just be honest. You can give an answer that will provide a glimmer of hope, not shatter his or her dreams, and most importantly, keep that one thing you are most proud of intact — your honesty since the day he or she was born.

Jon Buzby has been involved in and writing about youth sports for the past 30 years, originally as a coach and board member with his now-adult son and most recently "just as a dad" with his 8- and 10-year-old sons. Jon is an award-winning writer and his latest book, “Not an Expert, Just a Dad … In this Crazy Game Called Life,” is available on Amazon. Send comments or future blog topics you'd like to see to JonBuzby@hotmail.com and follow him @YouthSportsBuzz on Twitter.