Uncharted Territory

Oh jeepers! Time to trade in the Pilot for a mini van and my flip-flops for tube socks and sneakers, Little Mama's about to be "Sports Mama"! Here I was cruising through life, enjoying the creativity, art, music and crafts that so define my family when I was blind-sided by my 7 year-old. "Mom, I wanna play basketball!" Cue crickets....

"Basketball? Really? What about karate? No? Swimming? No? So basketball, huh? OK, give me a minute to think." Or panic if you really must know. Team sports are about as foreign to me as frog sashimi and social grace! I was raised by pot-smoking, peace-loving, hippies for Pete's sake. It was all about expanding the mind to allow for greater creativity, enhanced by music, nature and color. So naturally, I chose the path of art and music. I stayed as far away from sports as possible. In fact, PE was like Guantanamo Bay for me. Water-boarding sounds like a treat in comparison! I was never fast enough, limber enough, big enough or good enough to play anything well, so I was teased relentlessly. I was that "Breakfast Club" geek who was razzed by the sporting elite daily. So I learned a healthy loathing for anything athletic early on.

I have, in my later years, learned to appreciate watching a good game of basketball or hockey or even the occasional football game with friends (granted I'm usually the one chatting with someone in the kitchen with the food) but I had not really ever entertained the idea that my son would have an interest in team sports. So... what to do? Well, like any good parent, I researched and researched and found a program at the local YMCA where they teach basketball in a non-competitive setting. I understand that this can only last so long. If he is good and he enjoys it, he will have to enter a league. OK, feeling hyperventilation coming on! A league! OK, I don't mean to generalize, but the horror stories I've heard of crazy, gung-ho parents at these youth sporting events freaks me the hell out! I want my son to play for the love of the sport, not because he needs to help somebody else's parent relive the fucking high school glory days! I know these people are probably the minority, but it just weirds me out. And we all know that it only takes one bad apple to spoil the bushel. OK, so BREATHE!

I enrolled him in a SportsZone class where he has 4 classes to learn some of the basics of team sports. Then I have him enrolled for 2 months of basketball starting in January. These are both at the Y and are both non-competitive classes that are to teach him how to play the game in a safe environment. I can do this. I can do this. He wants it so badly and I want to support him in anything he wants to do. So, it's time to pack up all of my baggage and let him have his own unbiased experiences. Time will tell, he will either love it and excel or he'll hate it and we're back to writing songs, painting pictures and playing the dulcimer. Either way, if he's happy, I'm happy... except for having to get up early for games every damn Saturday morning!