Of the many adjectives that describe me, “athletic” is simply
not among them. Perhaps that’s
because my career as a figure skater was cut short when we learned, five
minutes into my first (and last) ice skating lesson, that some sense of balance
was required to stay upright. Perhaps
it’s because my 6-week career as a junior bowler was commemorated by a little
wooden bowling pin displaying my overall average of 65. Or perhaps it’s because my signature
basketball move as a teenager was throwing my hands up over my head for
protection in any and all potential rebounding situations, because who wants to
be hit in the head with a flying basketball? Whatever the reasons, I have spent a life far from rinks, courts,
and fields. But now that I have
children of my own, I have decided that it is high time I become a truly dedicated
athletic supporter!
Tonight my daughter runs up and down the community center basketball
court, her ponytails askew and flying in the wind. Every so often during the fast-paced game she struggles with
the duality of her girly- and athletic-sides, pausing to tend to her nails
halfway to the basket. During the
fourth quarter her eager pace is waylaid by yawning, which she later explains is
due to “utter exhaustion.” I
suppose two 6-minute quarters a week will do that to an 8 yr old. She’s a pretty good dribbler, a skill
she gets from her dad. When I ask
her why she doesn’t get under the basket to rebound the ball she responds, “If
I’m under the basket, Mom, then the ball might hit me in the head!” She gets her higher order reasoning
skills from me.
Tomorrow night it’s my son’s turn on the court. At 7:45 we will be sitting in the
stands on the opposite end of the court from the team as I desperately signal to him that
his jersey is on backwards…again.
Unlike his sister, the boy will wisely pace himself as he embarks on his
multiple migrations between baskets.
He is a competent shot when he gets the ball during a practice
session. With an audience,
however, his enthusiasm gives way to the ill-conceived showmanship so common among teens. Last week one kid performed a
Cantilever into an Axel Jump finishing with a Camel Spin while shooting the
ball. It was a thing of beauty
until the ball came down 6 ft from the basket into the waiting hands of the
opposing team…my son was right next to the rebounder with his arms thrown over
his head for protection. Go
figure.
Still, we have fun cheering loudly for our kids’ teams and
politely for the opposing teams.
We enjoy watching our children participate, hoping for that cinema-worthy play
that will excite and encourage them to work harder and practice more and be
their best selves. We teach them
to be gracious winners and gracious second-placers. And as we sit on the bleachers at the end of the court
watching the players barreling down toward the basket above us, I keep my hands
ready to throw over my head, because, despite my love for and support of my
children’s athletic pursuits, I still don’t want to be hit in the head with a
flying basketball.
