The greatest thing in the world happened to me. I’ve got four kids and I’ve been hauling them to various sports, practices, work-outs for over 20 years. And this week, for the first time ever, one of my children will intentionally be handed a ball, a football to be exact! My kid is going to touch the ball…during A Real Game!
My kids have always been the brillinat, crazy and polite kids on the bench. Popular and beautiful but not the first or eighteenth kid you pick to be on your team.
Mary got tired of running on the soccer field and wanted to make daisy chains in the grass behind the bench. When she tried basketball
we told her to” annoy and bug” the players on the other team when they had the ball, “wave your arms and stay in front of them.”
I promise you, Mary understood annoying, she started snapping her fingers right in their faces. Yeah, that’s annoying.
At some point a fifth grade coach looked at Jack, who was big and strong and in-shape, the coach yelled, “don’t you ever get mad and just want to smash somebody?”
Jack shook his head,”no, not really.”
The coach nodded, “go sit on the bench.”
Lexie has always been a Martial Artist. She’s 100 percent committed. She almost made it as a volley ball player and failed miserably at soccer because she was more interested in the bugs and singing songs from That’s so Raven and Cheetah Girls.
All three of my first children were doomed when they joined a team. They were the kids who played in the weird pre-first quarter of games, the one where they don’t actually keep score. Most of the time when those kids are playing the coaches are chatting it up or looking at plays for “the real game” or cleaning their fingernails.
But Sandor (when I say his name I hear trumpets) it seems might be different. He’s a team guy, he’s a dude. He starts on both offense and defense. Simply starting has been unheard of in Hampoland. Hampos don’t start, they are the cool kids you ask for help in chemistry class and then get them to burn you an awesome mix cd for your party. They don’t “start” on football or basketball teams. But it gets even better. I’ve been told….the team has a couple of plays which include passing to my son, my offspring, my boy. They are intentionally going to let a Hampo touch the football, on the field, during a real game.
I can barely breath. The game is at 1:00 on Saturday. I’ll keep you posted. Oh, I’m supposed to meet Bill Clinton tomorrow, but my son touching the ball is a much bigger deal.