The Sporting Life* (HOL 100)

House of Laughter 100
Last night I played pool volleyball with a group of men who have played twice a week throughout the summer for years. I played a couple of times earlier in the summer, and generally have a good time. Most of the guys have known each other for years, and a couple of them have college age sons that play as well. I get my hands on the ball a couple of times each game, although I miss as many as I hit.
There are a couple of guys who take the game much more seriously then they need to. I found myself becoming frustrated when I would miss a shot, get unsolicited coaching from another player (i.e. “Don’t go for it if you can’t hit it.” or “You need to hit those.” ), and then watch the “coach” miss the next shot. Just when I get to the place where I enjoy playing for the sake of playing, I’m reminded of why I disliked sports so much as a kid.
I don’t ever recall either of my folks playing a team sport. I went to a couple of Gator football games as a kid, but never really understood the game until high school. My dad lifted weights and jogged, and he tried to get me interested in either, but I never understood the appeal. I couldn’t run fast, I couldn’t catch, I couldn’t throw. I was always picked last or next to last for a team. (There was a handicapped kid in our class. He and I alternated for who got picked last.) I always felt guilty for the person who had mercy on me and picked me earlier or attempted to throw the ball to me. There was no chance I was going to help the team, and therefore his act of pity would invariably bring his teammate’s retribution on him.
My youth soccer coach asked my folks if I was retarded.
I learned early on that if I did my best and pushed as hard as I could, I would still be grossly outperformed by the second slowest kid out on the field.
There were only two times I was athletically successful as a kid and ironically, they reinforced the message that I belonged inside in the air-conditioning playing Atari. I was the Indian leg wrestling champion of my Cub Scout troop. Is it really any surprise that the kid who outweighed everyone else by twenty pounds could easily flip pin all comers? At a county track meet, my elementary school’s tug-of-war team, which I was a member of, easily dominated every other team. A quick glance at our lineup made it clear that Coach Washington didn’t pick this team for its speed and agility.
So the question is, “How do I raise a kid to enjoy physical activity when genetically speaking he has a snowball’s chance in hell of having and ability?” I’m sure he will have other kids and coaches who treat every game of kickball as a gladiatorial death match. I also don’t want him to turn up his nose at all sports as a distraction and waste of time. I want to instill in him a desire to win, but a greater desire to enjoy playing.
My friend Scott (a sports fanatic and former athlete known for his cat-like agility) assures me that we are on the right track. Isaac enjoys watching Grasshopper baseball and Panther and Gator football. He really enjoys it when I tie a ball to a string in a tree and let him hit it with his bat. I’m surprised at ho well he can throw a Frisbee. He loves to go outside and catch and throw a football. We’ve taken him to play golf a couple of times (mini and par three.)
After writing and then reading the last paragraph, I actually feel like we are doing a pretty good job on this front after all. Still if he has no athletic skills at all, he will at least get a little exercise playing Wii.

Strength and Honor,

Big Matt

Staycation all I ever wanted (HOL 99)

House of Laughter 99

The two most important, rewarding, and frustrating roles in my life are that of husband and father. Unlike many other professions, my job doesn’t bleed over into my private life very often. (Rarely do I use a change in transmitted acousitc energy to diagnose changes in fluid dynamics when I’m home, unless I hear the toilet running long after a flush.)

Whenever Isaac and Nancy go to Florida in the summer, I ask myself an intimidating question, “Who am I when I am not a father or husband?” I find it intimidating because there were only about 6 months of my life between the time I was living with my parents and the time I was married. My assumption is that left to my own devices, I would be the living embodiment of “Comic Book Guy” from the Simpsons.

It took about two days to become tired of Tombstone pizza and video games. I was surprised that I never went out to eat or to the movies by myself. I didn’t play nearly as much X-box or Wii as I thought I would. I exercised slightly more than I thought I would (none). After destroying our second hand elliptical machine, I did take a number of long walks in addition to the weekly game of ultimate Frisbee. I joined a great three hour game of pool volleyball which I both enjoyed and didn’t suck at….a rarity in my athletic career. Life was a lot more spontaneous. I went and saw several movies with friends (Hurt Locker, Bruno, and Raising Arizona). I had lunch at Indian Restaurant with folks I normally don’t hang out with, and enjoyed dollar taco night with the Olsons. I went to a Sunday night concert with a mix of friends from church. I also got to re-connect with a family that I hadn’t seen in years when they spent the night at our place on their way through Greensboro to the beach.

I had a busy and rewarding week, but at the same time I really missed Isaac and Nancy especially when they had a birthday party for the boy down in Florida. I mentally went through the logistics of driving to Florida to surprise them, but ultimately knew it would not have been worth the expense and hassle.

They arrived home on Saturday and we spent the week doing all of the fun things a family intends to do, but never get around to. We went to Carowinds where Isaac and I rode the wooden “Fairly Odd Coaster” on the front row (Afterwards he said it was his favorite, but he only liked the little hills.) We also rode the Scooby Doo Haunted mansion about 6 times. The big thrill for the day though was the water park.

Isaac would not ride any of the slides the week before at Wild Waters in Florida. I used Daddy magic to work up his courage to ride the “Platypus plunge”, and after one trip down the water slide, he was hooked. Nancy and I sat in chairs and watched him get in line by himself, wait his turn, slide to the bottom and run right back around and get in line again.

On his birthday, we opened his presents first thing in the morning and then our friend Gabe took us to a day baseball game (When the thermometer reads higher than the speed gun for the pitches…..you know it is hot.) Isaac was disappointed that we didn’t have all of his friends over for his birthday, so we invited over a handful of his grown up friends for cake that night.

One afternoon of our “Staycation” we all bought white shirts at Goodwill and took them home to Tie Dye them. There is a reason they provide gloves with tie dye kits. My hands looked like I had strangled the Joker. Isaac was actually scared of my hands and run away screaming whenever he could see my rainbow colored palms.

At the end of the week, we went down to the Lazy 5 ranch near Charlotte. It is a large farm where you can drive through an enormous open area filled with deer, sheep, cattle, pigs, zebras, rhinos, giraffes, emu, ostriches, and dozens of other friendly ungulates that will stick their head into your car window, eat goat chow out of a bucket on your wife’s lap, slobber all over everything, and then chase your car while you gasp for air laughing hysterically and try to capture the look of terror and disgust on your wife’s face with the digital camera. Yeah it was that awesome.

Life is getting back to normal. Schools are starting, and instead of mourning the end of summer I’m trying to look forward to the cool things that come with fall. Halloween, Corn Mazes, colorful leaves, last minute weekend trips to coaster parks before they close for the season, and the inevitable mad rush which is Our anniversary, Nancy’s birthday, My birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years, and the whirlwind trips to Florida that come with the season. Time flies like an arrow….Fruit flies like a banana.

Strength and Honor

Big Matt