Saturday, March 21, 2009

Link is Playing Inline Hockey

Today was Link’s first official inline hockey game. Here is one perspective:

The Optimist Mom

Link started Inline Hockey this week. We are SO super duper excited that he gets to play. He looks so cool in his gear, and we were even more grateful to get most of it used from a friend. He was so excited about his game this morning, I only caught a glimpse of him leaving after I came downstairs. We showed up at the game fully prepared, hot chocolates, mini vanilla bean scones, blanket to sit on, jackets, sunglasses (for mom anyway), and Sassy even brought her baby. Honey was already there, of course, being such an awesome supportive dad. He was hanging out behind the players with the camera. William got to go into the game several times and did his best. He only fell down a couple of times. We cheered and enjoyed the gorgeous sunshine. What a great opportunity for him! We’re so excited for the game next week.

Kay, I’m not really like that. I know moms who are. I do not mix well with organized sports. Let me take you back, shall I?
Rec center basketball. My sister and I got on a team together (the sister who always had a clean room, straight a’s, popular friends, always did the right thing, good at sports…that sister). I’d never played basketball like that before – maybe not before at all. I felt very insecure and unsure of myself. I didn’t know the rules or how to do anything. But, I tried. At the one and only game I remember, I was following everyone down the court, just trying to keep up and from behind me, the basketball came down out the air and hit me square in the head. I could have died! Bad enough, right? Oh no. One of the big jerk dads in town from the bleachers yelled (very loudly so everyone could hear) “Way to go, Paris!!!” I left that court hating basketball. I don’t remember if I cried, but I’m pretty sure I wanted to cry. I tried lots of sports. Even basketball again in middle school. It was a vicious game. Girls were SO mean! Knocking each other down, fingernails, nasty attitudes about each other. It was more than I could handle. The coach never put me in because I wasn’t any good. I’d sit at the end of the bench and feel like an idiot because he didn’t pay any attention to me. One game, my cousin and a friend came to watch and I was chitty-chatting with them during the game. I knew the coach didn’t care whether I played or not. But I definitely got into trouble for chitty chatting. The big jerk. Volleyball was better. Less physical contact. I was a really good server. I could ace it really well. Over the net and square into the ground before anyone on the other team could move. Buuuuut, I couldn’t do anything else. Which means I sat on the bench until it was our turn to serve and then I got sent in. When I didn’t make the traveling team my freshman year of high school, and I’d already squared up the other girls to see what my competition was, I quit the team and that was the end of my volleyball days. I was on the golf team, in the marching band, a cheerleader. Always just below average and the coaches were always just a bit annoyed with me.
So, here we were this morning at Link’s game. Some of the other boys on his team look pretty big. That’s good for the team, but makes me worry about Link. Link can skate, but needs a lot of practice. He’s not good with handling the stick yet and his reaction time to the puck is pretty slow. He even kept trying to hit it toward the wrong side of the court. Oh come ooooon…I’m not criticizing my own child and I’m not hopeless for him either. I’m worried about his self-esteem and worried that he’s going to get hurt. I’m hopeful that he will get better and I’m hoping that he can get a lot of practice time with his dad. It will make a huge difference. It was hard to watch him on the bench, and each time the coach would send people in, he’d get up and ask if he could go in and the coach would say, “No Link, not yet…” and Link would sit back down. In the meantime, Sassy held her cup of hot chocolate for about 2 minutes and gave it back. I put it back in the cup holder. George quite enjoyed every last drop of his. Sassy then slid off the bench (blanket underneath, cup holder on the blanket next to her) pulling the blanket with her and her completely full cup of hot chocolate landed upside down on the ground. Hooray! I was thinking. Then George started complaining that he wanted to go home. Then Sassy needed to go potty, so we headed over to go potty. As I was shifting myself around, taking off my jacket, etc., Sassy started opening the door to leave. “Hold on..” Nice voice. Still opening the door. “Hold on please…” Still nice voice. Still opening the door. “HOLD ON!” Firm, but not mean…eye contact…aaaaand finishing up.. Did she stop? Of course not. And within seconds, she was crying because she’s shut her fingers in the door. Why don’t children listen to me? Back at the court, we sit down and Honey gets a phone call from work. Link finally gets sent in to play and after two runs down the court, he gets pulled out again. George is stretched over the bleachers because he wants to go home. Sassy wants to go home too and starts whining and laying all over me. Honey’s on the phone and irritated because he’s gotten a call about some problem and I hear the word, ‘ridiculous,’ come out of his mouth before he ends the call and hangs up.

I know it takes a better attitude for me to be the Optimist Mom and I’m going to try. Really, I am. In the meantime, enjoy some photos from the game and I’ll let you know how it goes next weekend.

In the game.

On the bench. "Can I go in, Coach?"


Help with a drink from Dad. Aaaaaaand, on the bench.

Two spectators, George and Sassy. This lasted for about 5 minutes.

The spilled hot chocolate.

Sassy wants to go home.

Pinched fingers, Daddy to the rescue. (Mom wasn't very sympathetic)

Phone call from work.

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