One of the coaches who also happens to be the Middle School Principal at my children's school started an Elementary Basketball League. Last winter, he started a boys' league. This year he added girls.
Both Deanna and Dane play. Practices are after school one day a week and games are usually on Saturday morning. Tomorrow, however, there's scheduling conflicts so this week's games were tonight.
I sat in the stands and cheered for both teams, yelling congratulations for good guarding, stealing the ball, and basket attempts and providing lots of encouragement. At one point, Deanna shot from the far side of the basket, a really long shot, and sunk it. I screamed. All the other parents turned and looked at me. The Mom sitting next to me elbowed me gently as if to say, "That's your girl!" I hollered to Deanna and continued to root long after the other parents had finished recognizing the great shot.
Later, as I thought about the response of the other parents, I snickered. There wasn't a one of us present that didn't understand the pride we all take in our children. We congratulate each other whenever one of our children does well. But, truthfully, Deanna hasn't learned any basketball skill from me. I never played basketball. It was the one sport I avoided. I couldn't stand the noise reverberating off the walls and ceiling. Even as a child, it was just too much for me. I could kick a football further than any boy I knew (many asked me to teach them the tricks of the trade) and I was a great softball player. I played tennis, badminton, soccer, volleyball . . . almost any sport, but NO basketball. Periodically, I played a rousing game of H.O.R.S.E. or P.I.G. with my brother, seven years my senior, which could be done outside, and I was a pretty good shot, but I never learned to dribble and was a traveling expert. So I take no credit for Deanna's ability on the court. Anything she knows she's come by naturally. She actually is fairly good - way better than I have reason to expect. But it wasn't inherited.
I'll continue to act like I passed along some amazing basketball gene to my daughter and whoop and holler at every good move on her part but, secretly, I know it's an ability she's developed completely on her own. God forbid the other parents stop congratulating me.
2 comments:
too funny! Patti, you do have the same coordination it takes to play basketball...what other creature (besides another momma)could ever cook dinner, nurse a baby, read a recipe over the phone to a neighbor in need while counting eggs for the other neighbor to borrow for dinner, help a child with homework at the counter close-by while mopping the kitchen floor with yesterdays dishcloth...I mean hello! --I am sure you have done and conquered the likes on more than one occassion! Dribble a ball while running is nothing!
Go Deanna!
What a joy you are to me, Dianna! I have no doubt you can do all of that and look like a model, to boot. I'm not so sure I can . . . but I try, and I guess that's what matters.
Thanks for the sweet words of encouragement. You're such a sweetie!
Patti
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