Since Lil' S1 has been at his new school, we have been strongly encouraging (i.e., forcing) him to play a sport each semester. His outside interests -- books, video games, TV, D&D -- are all very sedentary activities, and a kid his age (a person of any age, really) needs to move. First semester he was on the swim team, which worked out quite well. Practices were at a pool very close to campus, and several of the meets were at a school a walkable distance from our house. It was usually SRO, because their pool bleacher area is so small, but that's not that annoying when it only takes two minutes to get there.
This semester he picked track and field from a rather unappealing (to him) list. As the start of the season got closer, however, he began really dreading the idea of doing the sport, to the point that S and I were wondering if we should let him off the hook and try a new exercise strategy. But we told him he only had to try it for two weeks, and then if he didn't like it, he could quit. And for the first week and a half of the season, he was counting down the hours until that two weeks was up, and then somehow, miraculously, when the time actually came, he decided to stick with it. There were two big things I think that swayed his decision: 1) He could do the throwing events (shot put and discus), which meant a lot less running; 2) I told him that as long as he does track I would let him listen to his headphones in the car when I was driving him to and from school instead of making him talk to me like I did before. That last one might sound silly, but I honestly think that it mattered.
So, he's in the midst of his season right now, and I gotta say, track and field is a rough sport for parents. The meets are in the middle of nowhere (most schools in the District don't have their own tracks); they are at least three hours long (often longer); unless your kid is a distance runner they're only actually doing their sport for like two minutes; and you have no idea in advance at what time exactly they will compete. I went to Lil' S1's meet on Monday. I arrived at 4:00 pm (driving through rush-hour traffic to get there), watched him sit around for a few hours and then throw a discus three times, and then left at 7:15 pm. Also, the stands were packed-full with the athletes, so I just stood the entire time in the blazing sun. Thankfully, I thought to bring sunscreen, and I saw this woman I used to know from Lil' S1's daycare days, so we chatted most the time (her daughter runs for a different school). Without that chance encounter it would have been so boring. I saw other parents sitting on the grass away from the action with their laptops and thought to myself, Ah, that's how you do it.
It also doesn't help that my son isn't exactly Al Oerter. If he doesn't finish dead last, I consider it a success. He probably could get decent. The throwing events are enough of a niche thing (he's the only middle-schooler at his school who does it) that I think you could be reasonably successful just through a little bit of extra practice and strength training. But I don't think he cares enough to do that. He likes throwing enough to do the bare minimum, but actually trying to get good might be a bridge too far. His favorite part of the season seems to be using an old chocolate syrup bottle as his water bottle. That's the type of kid he is. (It is pretty funny, though.)
He had another meet on Wednesday, which I missed because I had to go into the office that day, and S got it even worse than me. The event was further away, she had Lil's S2 in tow, and the throwers went first this time, so by the time she got there, he was already done. She drove an hour and a half just to give him a ride home.
Well, one silver-lining of Lil' S1 not being very good is that at least I don't have to worry about him getting on a serious travel team or anything like that. Doing this a few times every spring is barely tolerable. Doing it almost every weekend year round.... yeah, no. That's why whenever I hear those stories about the overbearing sports dad like Earl Woods or Marv Marinovich part of me is like, Well, you do kinda gotta appreciate the commitment to their kid. I'm way too selfish with my free time to force my child to do a hundred chip shots every day or wake up at 5:00 am and drive behind him in the car while he runs. Just coaching Lil' S2's rec league flag football team is more than enough for me.
Speaking of which, they lost their first game of the season today. It was a heartbreaker. We fell down 13-0 early and battled back to get it to down one, 26-25, and we had the ball on the five-yard line with six seconds left. Alas, incomplete pass and we lost. I was legitimately gutted for like an hour after the game. All the other parents and kids were getting ice cream and joking around, and I was just sitting there, despondent. It's completely because I'm the coach. I feel like I let everybody else down. It's silly. Nobody actually cares. It's fourth grade flag football, after all. And I know this, but I can't make myself feel differently. The best I can do is try not to let on about it, so that people don't think I'm a complete weirdo, and then write about it cathartically on this blog.
Alright, gotta go. Until next time...
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