sports
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Conquering Some Demons
Another snow day, the kids wanted to go skiing, they needed a driver. Why not me? And as I pondered what it would be like to work in the lodge, writing on my laptop, I realized I had no deadlines. In record time, after I announced my decision to ski, and not pound out another article on my computer, the boys had gathered my helmet, goggles and ski mask. I found my wool ski socks, jacket and pants, right where I left them after my accident, almost three years ago. At this point, I mentally congratulated myself for having my house far more organized and pulled together than I realized.…
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How I Learned The “4” Is Way More Important
I am not a good sport spectator. I miss big things. I miss critical things. I blunder through recaps and conversations — learning about what really happened, after the event. So, as my feet made it down to the shoreline, across the sand on Saturday, barely ten minutes before this critical race in the regatta was about to begin, I was unaware, really how much this race, this single race meant to my son. Nor did I have any idea that while I was fiddling around with the camera, deciding to take video, instead of stills, that I would actually catch his 4 boat, creeping up on the other 4…
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Crew: Behind the Scenes
At 5:30 last Saturday morning, parents of kids in Crew stirred them awake, and we drove them to the river in the dark. Fog was rolling over the river. We couldn’t see our hands in front of our faces. There was the sound of metal clanking as teams of volunteers drove stakes into the ground to set up tents. Out of state buses lined the parking lot, leaving me wondering what time these families rose. Hash Browns were poured out of cardboard gallon containers onto hot-oiled grills, and packages of bacon were unwrapped, taken straight out of coolers. Yogurt cups were lined up, while the servers wore flashlight headbands, trying…
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Soccer Sundays
On Sundays, we have two soccer games, that are usually back-to-back. Funny, how two simple one-hour games seem to eat the whole Sunday. Probably because the games are right smack in the middle of the day. Sometimes the older two boys are out on the fields, reffing their little brother’s games. This park is surrounded by these huge green hills… and this park looks exactly like Teletubbyland… Exactly like Teletubby land… and I say that practically every time I’m there. There is a post, somewhere in my archives, that shows the little boys, too little to play soccer, playing in the creek during their brother’s games… But I can’t find it.…
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Over the Bridge
This week, I stood on top of the bridge to watch the regatta.
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Regatta
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What To Do When You Get Knocked Down
This weekend, we pulled out the dust-covered, felt-covered football stadium my son created six years ago as part of his biography project. Before he took it to the curb, I asked him to leave it on the dining room table so that I could take a photo of it. “You already did that mom.” “No… I didn’t have this camera back then.” I stalled to take the photograph, knowing that once I took the photo, there would be no more reason to keep his work around. I remembered how long and hard he worked on this project — the time we spent together at Joann’s picking out self-adhesive letters, felt,…
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Sweatin’ Like a Banshee
Those baseball games, the double-headed tournaments, high-fly catches and the whitewashed uniforms came with a price — entire Saturdays lost. The price my brother paid with his own boys, years before I had children of my own. While he loved those games, I swore them off, unable to comprehend how a child could make anyone want to endure a Saturday on an un-shaded, hot stiff bench, for hours. While my own boys, thankfully, can live without a baseball game, I now completely do understand how a child can make me endure a Saturday on a bench. This weekend, it was a bleacher in gymnasium, and the ball was a basketball.…
