Hit Me With Your Best Shot

I am a soccer mom. In the negative sense of the phrase. All parents like to see their children succeed, especially after paying out good money for practices, uniforms, and team snacks and devoting a huge chunk of time sitting through practices and games. I've always tried to be encouraging, focusing on the personal achievement rather than the outcome. But I hate to see my children lose.

We held off on sports until Kit started fencing at the age of 9. He thought fencing was fun, and he enjoyed going to competitions. One year he almost made it to the final 16 in a national tournament. He had a great time and felt really good that he had done so well, but I was devastated on the inside. He eventually quit fencing because marching band was going to monopolize his free time. After a year of marching band he decided to quit (he got the trip to Italy - what's left after that?) and I asked if he wanted to resume fencing. No thanks. Sigh.

Now Kyle plays basketball. He loves to play basketball. He was a little nervous about being on a team until he found out that all the boys were only 6 years old. He doesn't have the best ball control, and his shooting skills are average, but he is an aggressive player. His first game was Saturday. We talked to him about the importance of having fun and being a team player, and about not being disappointed if his team lost. Since there are 7 boys on the team, I was worried that Kyle would be the one that would have to sit out two quarters. I reminded the coach that Kyle wouldn't be at next week's game and maybe that helped, since Kyle only sat out one quarter. Kyle handled the ball a little, and never did get a chance to shoot, but he got some rebounds and he stuck to his man. Literally. When the boy whom he was supposed to be guarding had the ball, Kyle wrapped his arms around him so he couldn't move. I was relieved that the other parents laughed. The score flip-flopped some, but Kyle's team was still one point behind with about a minute to go in the game. Their best player managed to make a free throw and a basket, putting the final score at 12 to 10.

Kyle modeling his cool uniform.

Someone acidentally turned on some music at the beginning of the warmup period. Kyle couldn't resist dancing to the beat.

Tip-off. Kyle was right there.

Kyle is definitely not afraid of being near the ball, no matter who is in the way.

I was on pins and needles during the whole game. I pretty much ignored the girls, except for when Cordelia trotted across the court on her way back from the bathroom. No, I didn't even leave my seat to escort them to the bathroom. They knew where it was. It was frustrating to see Kyle on the floor. Alot. Any time he started running, he would trip and fall. It was hard to watch Kyle's teammates not pass him the ball (they knew to pass it to Robby!). When all was said and done, Kyle never mentioned not getting to shoot. He was excited that their TEAM won. That was enough. For him, anyway. I'm still dealing with the fact that my child wasn't the MVP.