He shoots, he scores
My oldest starts in his first official hoops league next month. They had evaluations last week. It was a great Dad moment that I feel like sharing in the off chance I haven’t already told you this story. (WARNING: this post contains obnoxious parental bragging. Some content may not be suitable for nonrelatives).
A friend at work recommended that we try the “Upwards” basketball league for my 7 year old son. (Warnings about using the names of young children on the internet have led me to decide not to refer to my kids by name anymore so I’m going with G1 and G2 from now on.). Upwards is apparently a national Christian basketball league. It was described as very positive and well organized and for kids sports leagues, that is music to parents’ ears.
Last week I took G1 in to get measured for a uniform and to do evaluations. Every kid in the league goes through an evaluation and then the coaches hold a secret draft in an attempt to get the teams as even as possible. The evaluation was new territory for my oldest. He’s been to basketball camps a couple times, but never been in a league and never really had to play ball in front of people to show what he could do. That fact made me a bit nervous and him considerably so. He held my hand like it was the only thing keeping him from falling off a cliff.
Here are some cool and unique features about this league:
1. Practice times include a prayer and devotional.
2. The players are rewarded for memorizing verses in the Bible.
3. The players receive a mild, but attention grabbing electric shock if they shoot with two hands, look at the ball while they are dribbling or save the ball under the basket they are defending. Ok, not really, but it would sure make College and NBA hoops easier to watch if they did stuff like that….not that I would condone it of course….
4. For each game, the players are introduced one at a time as they run through a giant inflated tunnel with a smoke machine while NBA stadium music is played. My boy got so amped up just hearing that, they could have followed it with an announcement that each player must eat a bowl of broccoli and onions before each game and he wouldn’t have cared.
5. Everyone involved in the league so far has been alarmingly nice. I mean, not regular “they seem nice” kind of nice, but “wow, how can one person be so nice” kind of nice.
6. The league went from 250 kids last year to more than 500 this year. That’s a good sign.
There were more kids there than they were expecting and they were a bit overwhelmed. This resulted in lots of long lines, which is perfect for a nervous 7 year old let me tell you, and even better for 200 7 year olds all at one place. Finally, we made it into the gym where coaches were putting dozens of players through some drills. The first drill was a shooting drill. A player was asked to hit as many shots as he or she could from each side of the basket in a set amount of time. Then they were given the ball on the side and they would shoot, move to the middle, shoot, move to the other side, shoot and so on until time was up.
There were all kinds of kids there. Kids that looked like they had been handling a ball in the womb and kids that handled the ball like it was some strange delicate and dangerous object that should mostly be bounced off ones foot to the other side of the gym.
Now, I’m not the most competitive guy in the world. I’m only like 4th. But even given that, my primary goal was that G1 not be embarrassed. All the kids and parents would watch as each kid would perform these drills and I found myself getting knots in my stomach as G1 was approaching his turn. What if he missed all his shots? What if the other kids laughed? These weren’t major fears and it didn’t make me want to pull the plug on the exercise or anything, but these thoughts crept into my mind as I awaited the moment when all eyes would be on my little boy.
The kid in front of G1 was about 5’10’ with a full beard. When the coach asked him how old he was he took the cigarette out of his mouth and responded in a deep gravely voice, “seven.” Yeah, right…. Maybe that’s a slight exaggeration, but he was a good 8 inches taller than G. He was much better than any of the other kids had been. He made 6 shots on the left and 8 on the right. Then he made 5 more on the shoot and move drill. Compared to the kids before him, that was Ray Allen like shooting.
I remember thinking, “great. G has to follow that kid?” Don’t get me wrong, I’ve played with G enough to know that he can make those shots, but it’s different when everyone’s watching so you never know. The thing is though, that even though I was nervous for him, I knew deep down that he would do well. I just knew it.
G stepped up and received the instructions and missed the first shot. As noted above, everyone in this league is ridiculously nice, so the coach rebounding for him, handed him back the ball and spent about 45 seconds going on and on about how it would be alright and to just keep trying, etc. You would have thought he had just blown the game winning shot in the championship game. As she handed the ball back to G and restarted the clock, I had to chuckle as he looked at her with a puzzled look that seemed to say, “yeah, I know everything’s going to be fine for me, but I’m starting to worry about you.”
That first shot that G missed was also the last one. In 30 seconds he made 11 shots from one side and 13 from the other. He made 12 consecutive and missed 3 in the whole drill including the shoot and move aspect. Our half of the gym all stopped and the coaches, parents and kids all stared as this skinny, short little kid casually sunk shot after shot after shot. When he was finally done everyone applauded. He was that only one that happened for. The mom standing next to me, not knowing that he was mine, turned to another mom standing nearby and said, “I guess we found the first pick of the draft.”
He moved from there to yet another line and when he got situated back in line, he turned around and found me in the masses of parents. He gave me a quick little thumbs up and a look that said, “don’t worry Dad, I got this.” He was great at the other drills too, though nothing compared to those first few minutes shooting the ball. We floated out of the gym together in excited anticipation of the season starting.
I don’t know if he will end up being a good basketball player. He’s short like me and fast like me (which is to say, not fast), but he loves it so who knows? I honestly don’t really care whether he becomes a baller or stars at something else. Regardless of what happens next, that hour in the gym was a blessing from God of greater value than all the gold in Fort Knox. Not because G hit all those shots, but because I got to see him succeed and revel in the joy of it. To see your kid approach something with confidence and succeed is about as good as it gets.
I have much more to post from the recent hiatus, but don’t have the time right this second.
Upcoming posts should include:
5 football games in 4 days: Football Nirvana in Athens, Georgia
The most dangerous drink in the world
How to work the tables in San Diego
Product Packaging: A world in crisis
American Gangster: Movie Review
A friend at work recommended that we try the “Upwards” basketball league for my 7 year old son. (Warnings about using the names of young children on the internet have led me to decide not to refer to my kids by name anymore so I’m going with G1 and G2 from now on.). Upwards is apparently a national Christian basketball league. It was described as very positive and well organized and for kids sports leagues, that is music to parents’ ears.
Last week I took G1 in to get measured for a uniform and to do evaluations. Every kid in the league goes through an evaluation and then the coaches hold a secret draft in an attempt to get the teams as even as possible. The evaluation was new territory for my oldest. He’s been to basketball camps a couple times, but never been in a league and never really had to play ball in front of people to show what he could do. That fact made me a bit nervous and him considerably so. He held my hand like it was the only thing keeping him from falling off a cliff.
Here are some cool and unique features about this league:
1. Practice times include a prayer and devotional.
2. The players are rewarded for memorizing verses in the Bible.
3. The players receive a mild, but attention grabbing electric shock if they shoot with two hands, look at the ball while they are dribbling or save the ball under the basket they are defending. Ok, not really, but it would sure make College and NBA hoops easier to watch if they did stuff like that….not that I would condone it of course….
4. For each game, the players are introduced one at a time as they run through a giant inflated tunnel with a smoke machine while NBA stadium music is played. My boy got so amped up just hearing that, they could have followed it with an announcement that each player must eat a bowl of broccoli and onions before each game and he wouldn’t have cared.
5. Everyone involved in the league so far has been alarmingly nice. I mean, not regular “they seem nice” kind of nice, but “wow, how can one person be so nice” kind of nice.
6. The league went from 250 kids last year to more than 500 this year. That’s a good sign.
There were more kids there than they were expecting and they were a bit overwhelmed. This resulted in lots of long lines, which is perfect for a nervous 7 year old let me tell you, and even better for 200 7 year olds all at one place. Finally, we made it into the gym where coaches were putting dozens of players through some drills. The first drill was a shooting drill. A player was asked to hit as many shots as he or she could from each side of the basket in a set amount of time. Then they were given the ball on the side and they would shoot, move to the middle, shoot, move to the other side, shoot and so on until time was up.
There were all kinds of kids there. Kids that looked like they had been handling a ball in the womb and kids that handled the ball like it was some strange delicate and dangerous object that should mostly be bounced off ones foot to the other side of the gym.
Now, I’m not the most competitive guy in the world. I’m only like 4th. But even given that, my primary goal was that G1 not be embarrassed. All the kids and parents would watch as each kid would perform these drills and I found myself getting knots in my stomach as G1 was approaching his turn. What if he missed all his shots? What if the other kids laughed? These weren’t major fears and it didn’t make me want to pull the plug on the exercise or anything, but these thoughts crept into my mind as I awaited the moment when all eyes would be on my little boy.
The kid in front of G1 was about 5’10’ with a full beard. When the coach asked him how old he was he took the cigarette out of his mouth and responded in a deep gravely voice, “seven.” Yeah, right…. Maybe that’s a slight exaggeration, but he was a good 8 inches taller than G. He was much better than any of the other kids had been. He made 6 shots on the left and 8 on the right. Then he made 5 more on the shoot and move drill. Compared to the kids before him, that was Ray Allen like shooting.
I remember thinking, “great. G has to follow that kid?” Don’t get me wrong, I’ve played with G enough to know that he can make those shots, but it’s different when everyone’s watching so you never know. The thing is though, that even though I was nervous for him, I knew deep down that he would do well. I just knew it.
G stepped up and received the instructions and missed the first shot. As noted above, everyone in this league is ridiculously nice, so the coach rebounding for him, handed him back the ball and spent about 45 seconds going on and on about how it would be alright and to just keep trying, etc. You would have thought he had just blown the game winning shot in the championship game. As she handed the ball back to G and restarted the clock, I had to chuckle as he looked at her with a puzzled look that seemed to say, “yeah, I know everything’s going to be fine for me, but I’m starting to worry about you.”
That first shot that G missed was also the last one. In 30 seconds he made 11 shots from one side and 13 from the other. He made 12 consecutive and missed 3 in the whole drill including the shoot and move aspect. Our half of the gym all stopped and the coaches, parents and kids all stared as this skinny, short little kid casually sunk shot after shot after shot. When he was finally done everyone applauded. He was that only one that happened for. The mom standing next to me, not knowing that he was mine, turned to another mom standing nearby and said, “I guess we found the first pick of the draft.”
He moved from there to yet another line and when he got situated back in line, he turned around and found me in the masses of parents. He gave me a quick little thumbs up and a look that said, “don’t worry Dad, I got this.” He was great at the other drills too, though nothing compared to those first few minutes shooting the ball. We floated out of the gym together in excited anticipation of the season starting.
I don’t know if he will end up being a good basketball player. He’s short like me and fast like me (which is to say, not fast), but he loves it so who knows? I honestly don’t really care whether he becomes a baller or stars at something else. Regardless of what happens next, that hour in the gym was a blessing from God of greater value than all the gold in Fort Knox. Not because G hit all those shots, but because I got to see him succeed and revel in the joy of it. To see your kid approach something with confidence and succeed is about as good as it gets.
I have much more to post from the recent hiatus, but don’t have the time right this second.
Upcoming posts should include:
5 football games in 4 days: Football Nirvana in Athens, Georgia
The most dangerous drink in the world
How to work the tables in San Diego
Product Packaging: A world in crisis
American Gangster: Movie Review
Comments
Then see it again in your mind's eye the next time you are angry or frustrated.
All the anger and frustration will melt away....GONE.
Good to have you back.
Because we DON'T.
I had a similar proud moment with G-man when we were at a Mexican food restaurant on Sunday and the waiter asked generally if anyone spoke Spanish. We looked blankly at him but then G1 raised his hand and spoke in fluid Spanish to the guy and they carried on what seemed like a quite animated and lengthy conversation in all Spanish. I say it seemed like because I have NO idea what was said. He is awesome! Though he was probably saying something like "don't mind these gringos, they eat too much and don't let me stay up late".
But on to other topics. Here is the current topic in our family: We have noticed that whenever there is an audience, or any gathering or group of people, there is ALWAYS, ALWAYS an over-reactor. Somebody who laughs too loud, or too long, or cries too much, or just WAY overreacts to whatever the situation is.
Now,here is our query: If you are the over-reactor, do you know you are over-reacting?
This follows out last lengthy family debate of: If you have terrible B.O, can you smell your own stench? We decided that people who stink do not know they are stinking. We reached this conclusion by staying in a cabin on the coast that had a musty smell at first, but then the smell "went away," and we went all over the place and in shops and restaurants only to return home-- and once in the sanctity of our own clean smelling home, did we discover that we had ABSORBED the stench, and in fact had been stinking all weekend EN MASSE and did not know!! We did not know we were stinking!
So, stench is to ignorance, as overreacting is to oblivious.
Or, let me put it this way: How do you think Zach likes being my son-in-law??
Indeed, I have noticed that there is ALWAYS an over reactor in every crowd. It seems the world is overrun with people whose reaction to events is hugely disproportionate to the actual happenings. The thing I hate most is when said over reactor will have a huge reaction, say a sharp inhale, a scream, a grimace and then hold it....waiting for everyone's attention to move in their direction and THEN and only then will they express what stupid minor thing has happened. Invariably something snively though the overblown reaction made it look like the space shuttle had just landed in their yard.
I remember the broccoli incident! I think Tim ate about 500 pounds of steamed broccoli when I was at ladies retreat. WHY?? He always tries to bug me like that. When I was in labor with David, Tim reeked of tuna. Here's how it all played out:
Peggy:(while pushing) Get away from me! You reek of tuna!
Tim: Peg, I have not had any tuna whatsoever in months.
Peggy: LIAR!
At this point I dug my fingernails into Tim's thigh, and the marks are really starting to fade, David turns 22 next month,and you can hardly even see the scars on Tim's leg anymore, so no harm done, right?
Hey...wait a minute...was I the over-reactor???
Can this be true??
Another thing about being in a crowd, there is always someone who can make everything someone ELSES fault. I wonder if they know they are doing it?
Of course the blamer KNOWS they are blaming, but by nature they HAVE to blame someone else.
So, we have the stupids, the stinkys, the over reactors and the blamers...have we got everyone covered???
On another note, Tim asked me how come you and I don't just get our own blog, and I told him I feel like we HAVE a blog, and any decent lawyer could tell you that posession is 9/10 of the law...right???
Man, it is tought keeping up with my most avid commentors. I don't have time right now to respond in detail to everything, so let me just say, people who have some social defect, like talking too loud, over-reacting, walking backwards in a crowded room, etc., do not realize their defect.....ever.
Also, something to consider is that in any group of more than 15 people (being generous), there is at least one person who is rather severely socially defective in some way. If you find yourself in a group that large and can not spot this person, it is you.
Unless of course, I am in that group, and then, it is probably me.
Reading about "G"...man...I was like "GO! GO! GO!" as if I was at the 1996 NBA Championships with the Bulls crew killing the Sonics. I bet you were walking on clouds after the mom's comment about the #1 draft pick.
Congrats to you for your DNA and for him for doing so well.