Athletically Me

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.