I hope you had a nice Thanksgiving. As I stated just a couple of days ago, whether I have a nice Thanksgiving depends in large part on whether the Cowboys win. Despite coughing up the ball on the opening kick-off return and falling behind by scores of 7-0 and 21-7, they won, so my Thanksgiving was fine.
I didn't intend to post again on my least favorite holiday, but I received some criticism for my last post. Apparently, some people like Thanksgiving and found my less than enthusiastic opinion of our consumeristic, gluttony-filled holiday a tad off-putting. This despite pointing out how the day of gluttony and football is slowly being overtaken by holiday sales. I have enjoyed the evolution of "Black Friday" sales. It began with big sales on holiday hours the day after Thanksgiving. Then opening moved to 6 am, 5 am and 4 am. A few years ago, someone decided they could open at midnight. Eventually they moved it back to 10 pm Thursday, 8 pm Thursday and now, for many stores, 6 pm on Thursday. I imagine we are no more than 10 years away from sales starting at 6 am on Thursday, perhaps with stores closing from noon to 6 pm, so people can overstuff themselves on a bird that tastes so good I don't know anyone who eats it as a meal on any other day of the year except for Thanksgiving and Christmas. But I digress.
So, in the interest of taking the holiday back, finding its true meaning and throwing something positive on the day (other than a Cowboys victory, of which many of you do not share my enthusiasm), I give you my not complete list of things I am Thankful for (in no particular order).
Alex Morgan - for being today's blatantly obvious example that you can be a world class athlete and smoking hot at the same time...and not play tennis.
The Weather - for variety, heat, water, air and making my Anti-Diving Insider complain regularly about snow.
Snow - for bringing unparalleled joy to my three boys, as well as the occasional, unexpected day off for the family.
My three boys - for giving me a full rainbow of emotions, from elation to anger.
The US Men's National Soccer Team - for qualifying for Brazil 2014.
The Management Company at my office building - for not turning the heat on today, giving us an excuse to close early.
Darth Vader - for being the baddest man in the universe, and reminding us that it is never too late to realize the error of your ways.
A House - because you need a place to crash at night.
TiVO - possibly the greatest invention ever.
Chipotle - possibly the best restaurant ever.
Paula Creamer - for giving me a reason to love the color pink.
Michael Phelps - for showing us that the impossible is possible.
LeBron James - for being Middle's favorite athlete; I have no idea why.
Stuffed Animals - for always making things better.
The Rookery - for always being there, being faithful and being windy.
Chantilly High School Cross Country Team - for giving me a reason to follow high school sports.
Summer Swimming - for memories, fun, competition, socialization and turning Youngest into a dictator.
Daniel Snyder - for idiocy and incompetence.
The Wife - for just being her.
Friends and Family - for making life worth living.
Viggo Mortensen, Chris Hemsworth and David Boreanaz - for making the Wife feel like a teenage girl again.
Katy Perry - because she's a firework.
Hoosiers - for being the best sports movie ever.
Cherry Coke - no explanation needed.
And..
The Washington Wizards - for reminding me, and any other Wizards fan, that mediocrity is sometimes an admirable goal.
Enjoy Black Friday. And remember, sometimes mediocrity is an admirable goal.
Friday, November 29, 2013
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Happy Thanksgiving
After I dropped Youngest off at school today and was headed to drop off Middle and Eldest, Middle proclaimed that tomorrow, Thanksgiving, is his third favorite holiday. Intrigued by this, I asked for his top two. Not surprisingly, Christmas is number one. He surprised me by stating that Valentine's Day is his second favorite holiday. I am not exactly the most romantic or passionate man in the greater Washington DC metropolitan area, so I don't rank Valentine's Day very high. I was very interested in what makes Valentine's Day the second favorite holiday of a seven year old boy. It can't be the time he gets to spend with his girlfriend. Middle has a few girls who are friends, well maybe one, and he has certainly charmed his way deep into the heart of his summer swim coach/babysitter, who is a very attractive junior in college. But he has no girlfriends. Romance is as far away from his mind as cleaning his room. When I asked him "Why Valentine's Day?" he very simply replied, "Because we get free candy." Me thinks his mother and I spoil him too much. He stood his ground despite the objections from Eldest that the free candy haul from Halloween is greater than that of Valentine's Day. Middle is our passionate son and the one most likely to be a "player". I can't decide if his future girlfriends are going to be lucky or greatly disappointed, but I think this fondness for Valentine's Day at the age of seven says something about how he will act towards his significant others later in life. I don't know what it says, but it says something.
Thanksgiving is not my third favorite holiday. Nor my fourth or fifth or sixth. I'm not sure which holidays people usually count, but if you include Christmas, New Years Day, President's Day, MLK, Jr. Day, Memorial Day, 4th of July, Labor Day, Columbus Day, Veteran's Day and Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving is my 11th favorite holiday. You can add Flag Day, Father's Day, Mother's Day and Administrative Assistant's Day, and Thanksgiving becomes my 15th favorite holiday. I think you get the point.
I dislike Thanksgiving for several reasons. It begins with the food. I don't like turkey. I don't like mashed potatoes that much. I don't like sweet potatos, most stuffing or green bean casseroles. I can handle stuffing made exactly the way I want it, and green beans, by themselves, are OK. I like rolls. I don't really like pie and I really dislike pumpkin pie. Seriously, why didn't the pilgrims just throw a pig on a spit and twirl him over the fire for a few days or go to the local butcher for some steaks? That would have made this whole Thanksgiving thing a lot better for everyone. Especially the turkeys. Of course, I guess it would look even sillier for the President to pardon a pig than it does for him to pardon a turkey.
I also lack fond memories of Thanksgiving. I know when I was very young we used to have Thanksgiving with my uncle's family, who lived in Annapolis. I remember that being fun, but for the fact that I was the youngest of all the cousins so typically the subject of any ridicule and the one least likely to win anything. My later years (i.e., teenage years) were not so fun. Thanksgiving was raking day at my house. My father would start raking at about 8 am. I was the youngest of his three sons. I usually woke around 9 and was often the first of the sons to get up. By that time, Dad was already upset that he had been raking alone for an hour. The last thing I wanted to do was rake, so I would dawdle through breakfast and watch a little TV. This made it worse. Eventually, we would head outside to help him. He generally took it well, but we knew he was upset, and that would set the tone for the remainder of the day.
This leads to another reason I don't like Thanksgiving. My house was always full of tension. Mom was cooking, and for some reason she would be in a bad mood. Dad was in a bad mood over the raking thing. My brothers and I, well, I guess we were fine, but we didn't enjoy spending the first half of the holiday raking. And we always had the tension over the Cowboys game. The 4:30 Cowboys game conflicts with a typical dinner time. My father doesn't like eating "dinner" early, because it messes up his schedule. My mom doesn't want us to watch football during dinner, or worse, race through dinner so we can go back to football. More tension.
One year, when I was about 22, I remember my parents getting into an argument about who knows what. After several minutes I decided to attempt to end this, so I grabbed a giant knife, started mimicking a cutting motion between them and said, "I am literally cutting the tension with a knife." Shockingly, my father found this amusing and moved on. Mom on the other hand became even more upset. I think she was partially annoyed that my father found it amusing. The end result was, yes, more tension. Even when I make a bad joke on Thanksgiving, I can't win.
Finally, I dislike Thanksgiving because the whole purpose of the day is too eat too much.. I am not opposed to eating. I'm not even that opposed to over-eating as a concept. I am, however, opposed to a holiday that celebrates over-eating and basically nothing else. When people talk about Thanksgiving, they talk about eating too much, loosening the belt, stuffing themselves. Every joke about Thanksgiving is about over-eating. OK, not every joke, some are about spending time with family members you don't like. Yes, football is part of the day. In theory, we are supposed to reflect on what we are thankful for, but no one really does that. People just eat and eat some more and eat some more. Then they watch football. Sure, other holidays involve eating, even eating to excess. The 4th of July comes to mind. But those other holidays have another major purpose or celebration. Like fireworks. Thanksgiving has nothing else. Just see how much food you can get down. Oh, yeah, I forgot, then go Christmas shopping.
It is not all negative. There are a few things I like. As a father, I enjoy the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. As each of my three boys has reached an age of realization, they have enjoyed the parade. Watching them dance to the songs, amaze at the floats and go crazy when Santa appears at the end is one of the greatest joys of the holiday season.
I also have some fond memories of Thanksgiving. In 2012, we spent 5 days in Williamsburg, VA. We ate at the Cheese Shop (which you must do if you go to Williamsburg), spent some time in Colonial Williamsburg, wandered around the campus of William and Mary and went to Christmastown at Busch Gardens. I even got to play a round of golf with my brothers. That was fun for the whole family. Although my father got grumbly about the football game and disappeared shortly before kick-off. That whole Redskins victory left something to be desired, too.
And that is the kicker for Thanksgiving. Every Thanksgiving, at 4:30 pm, the Cowboys play. Throughout my life, this has been part of Thanksgiving. My Mom used to plan dinner for halftime. The Wife always asks me when they play and when we should eat. In 2012, the whole family planned dinner to end just before kick-off. Whether or not I enjoy Thanksgiving has a lot more to do with the result of that game than just about anything else. Let's be honest, if you are still reading you are pretty aware that I'm not a fan. If the Cowboys lose, that's the wet added to an already cold day. If they win, its like a heated blanket has just been wrapped around me. Not to mention the turkey wasn't so bad this year, and chocolate chip cookies were available in lieu of pie, and everyone seemed to get along. I don't know if the Cowboys game is a good thing or not. I just know it matters.
In other news, Prince William sang "Livin' on a Prayer" with Jon Bon Jovi and Taylor Swift at a charity vent. I have always enjoyed Jon Bon Jovi. The Wife enjoys him perhaps a little too much. Taylor seemed to miss the dynamics of the situation, trying to turn a slow, acoustic version of the Bon Jovi classic into a rap video with overdone dancing and excessive hand gestures. The Prince was dead on. He debonairly adjusted his tie and joined in with the hair band superstar. Needless to say, It's good to be the King.
Two and a half months until the winter Olympics start and Lindsey Vonn is hurt again. I don't know how the ski team is selected, but things don't look good for the defending downhill gold medalist. I think all Olympic teams should be decided like the basketball team: Let Coach K decide because he is an American and he always wants to win. (Just a little nod to my Volleyball Insider and my Anti-Diving Isider.) We have much to cover in Olympic news over the next few months. This is a little appetizer.
With that, may I say, Happy Thanksgiving. Safe travels. And get your Christmas shopping started. Less than a month until Santa's glorious trip around the world.
Thanksgiving is not my third favorite holiday. Nor my fourth or fifth or sixth. I'm not sure which holidays people usually count, but if you include Christmas, New Years Day, President's Day, MLK, Jr. Day, Memorial Day, 4th of July, Labor Day, Columbus Day, Veteran's Day and Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving is my 11th favorite holiday. You can add Flag Day, Father's Day, Mother's Day and Administrative Assistant's Day, and Thanksgiving becomes my 15th favorite holiday. I think you get the point.
I dislike Thanksgiving for several reasons. It begins with the food. I don't like turkey. I don't like mashed potatoes that much. I don't like sweet potatos, most stuffing or green bean casseroles. I can handle stuffing made exactly the way I want it, and green beans, by themselves, are OK. I like rolls. I don't really like pie and I really dislike pumpkin pie. Seriously, why didn't the pilgrims just throw a pig on a spit and twirl him over the fire for a few days or go to the local butcher for some steaks? That would have made this whole Thanksgiving thing a lot better for everyone. Especially the turkeys. Of course, I guess it would look even sillier for the President to pardon a pig than it does for him to pardon a turkey.
I also lack fond memories of Thanksgiving. I know when I was very young we used to have Thanksgiving with my uncle's family, who lived in Annapolis. I remember that being fun, but for the fact that I was the youngest of all the cousins so typically the subject of any ridicule and the one least likely to win anything. My later years (i.e., teenage years) were not so fun. Thanksgiving was raking day at my house. My father would start raking at about 8 am. I was the youngest of his three sons. I usually woke around 9 and was often the first of the sons to get up. By that time, Dad was already upset that he had been raking alone for an hour. The last thing I wanted to do was rake, so I would dawdle through breakfast and watch a little TV. This made it worse. Eventually, we would head outside to help him. He generally took it well, but we knew he was upset, and that would set the tone for the remainder of the day.
This leads to another reason I don't like Thanksgiving. My house was always full of tension. Mom was cooking, and for some reason she would be in a bad mood. Dad was in a bad mood over the raking thing. My brothers and I, well, I guess we were fine, but we didn't enjoy spending the first half of the holiday raking. And we always had the tension over the Cowboys game. The 4:30 Cowboys game conflicts with a typical dinner time. My father doesn't like eating "dinner" early, because it messes up his schedule. My mom doesn't want us to watch football during dinner, or worse, race through dinner so we can go back to football. More tension.
One year, when I was about 22, I remember my parents getting into an argument about who knows what. After several minutes I decided to attempt to end this, so I grabbed a giant knife, started mimicking a cutting motion between them and said, "I am literally cutting the tension with a knife." Shockingly, my father found this amusing and moved on. Mom on the other hand became even more upset. I think she was partially annoyed that my father found it amusing. The end result was, yes, more tension. Even when I make a bad joke on Thanksgiving, I can't win.
Finally, I dislike Thanksgiving because the whole purpose of the day is too eat too much.. I am not opposed to eating. I'm not even that opposed to over-eating as a concept. I am, however, opposed to a holiday that celebrates over-eating and basically nothing else. When people talk about Thanksgiving, they talk about eating too much, loosening the belt, stuffing themselves. Every joke about Thanksgiving is about over-eating. OK, not every joke, some are about spending time with family members you don't like. Yes, football is part of the day. In theory, we are supposed to reflect on what we are thankful for, but no one really does that. People just eat and eat some more and eat some more. Then they watch football. Sure, other holidays involve eating, even eating to excess. The 4th of July comes to mind. But those other holidays have another major purpose or celebration. Like fireworks. Thanksgiving has nothing else. Just see how much food you can get down. Oh, yeah, I forgot, then go Christmas shopping.
It is not all negative. There are a few things I like. As a father, I enjoy the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. As each of my three boys has reached an age of realization, they have enjoyed the parade. Watching them dance to the songs, amaze at the floats and go crazy when Santa appears at the end is one of the greatest joys of the holiday season.
I also have some fond memories of Thanksgiving. In 2012, we spent 5 days in Williamsburg, VA. We ate at the Cheese Shop (which you must do if you go to Williamsburg), spent some time in Colonial Williamsburg, wandered around the campus of William and Mary and went to Christmastown at Busch Gardens. I even got to play a round of golf with my brothers. That was fun for the whole family. Although my father got grumbly about the football game and disappeared shortly before kick-off. That whole Redskins victory left something to be desired, too.
And that is the kicker for Thanksgiving. Every Thanksgiving, at 4:30 pm, the Cowboys play. Throughout my life, this has been part of Thanksgiving. My Mom used to plan dinner for halftime. The Wife always asks me when they play and when we should eat. In 2012, the whole family planned dinner to end just before kick-off. Whether or not I enjoy Thanksgiving has a lot more to do with the result of that game than just about anything else. Let's be honest, if you are still reading you are pretty aware that I'm not a fan. If the Cowboys lose, that's the wet added to an already cold day. If they win, its like a heated blanket has just been wrapped around me. Not to mention the turkey wasn't so bad this year, and chocolate chip cookies were available in lieu of pie, and everyone seemed to get along. I don't know if the Cowboys game is a good thing or not. I just know it matters.
In other news, Prince William sang "Livin' on a Prayer" with Jon Bon Jovi and Taylor Swift at a charity vent. I have always enjoyed Jon Bon Jovi. The Wife enjoys him perhaps a little too much. Taylor seemed to miss the dynamics of the situation, trying to turn a slow, acoustic version of the Bon Jovi classic into a rap video with overdone dancing and excessive hand gestures. The Prince was dead on. He debonairly adjusted his tie and joined in with the hair band superstar. Needless to say, It's good to be the King.
Two and a half months until the winter Olympics start and Lindsey Vonn is hurt again. I don't know how the ski team is selected, but things don't look good for the defending downhill gold medalist. I think all Olympic teams should be decided like the basketball team: Let Coach K decide because he is an American and he always wants to win. (Just a little nod to my Volleyball Insider and my Anti-Diving Isider.) We have much to cover in Olympic news over the next few months. This is a little appetizer.
With that, may I say, Happy Thanksgiving. Safe travels. And get your Christmas shopping started. Less than a month until Santa's glorious trip around the world.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Summer Update #2
Sometimes I wonder how people do it.
At one point in my life, I was single. I got married, ending that stage of my life. The transition from single to married was fairly benign. I lived with The Wife for a little more than a year before we got married. Many of my closest friends were already married, and before moving in with The Wife, I was living with three very fine gentlemen, all of whom were at least 3 years younger than me. After getting married, my social life was fairly similiar to what it had been pre-wedding.
At one point in my life, I was married with no children. The Wife gave birth to Eldest, ending that stage of my life. The transition from married with no children to married with child was fairly significant. Only a few of my closest friends had children when Eldest was born. Before having children, The Wife and I went out somewhat regularly, ate at restaurants, slept late on weekends, and regularly socialized with other people. After Eldest was born, our social lives changed rather dramatically. We rarely went to dinner at restaurants, went out significantly less frequently, and socializing decreased. Even when we did socialize with others, we had another human being to care for at all times, putting a bit of a damper on our activities.
At one point in my life, I was married with one child. The Wife gave birth to Middle, ending that stage of my life. Let's be honest here, at some point, all Hell breaks loose, and we don't need to go through the fine pattern I set forth above. Two kids changed my life, as did three.
When we had two kids, people with one would ask us how we do it. The answer I always gave was, "the same way you do one kid, you just do it." When we had three kids, people with two would ask us how we do it. The answer I always gave was, "the same way you do two kids, you just do it." That was back when they were all under 6 years old. As they have grown and become soccer players and swimmers and basketball players and cub scouts and scholars and independent little creatures, I really am not sure how we do it. Our schedule, which I will elaborate on at another time, does not fit in a 24 hour day. I know how to do 3 kids, I do not know how to do 3 active kids. I realize the answer never changes, "you just do it", but it seems a little more impossible. And Youngest isn't even in an activity yet.
This past summer was the end of the good ol' days. Two boys participating in one sport (swimming), at the same time and place. A babysitter took them to practices. Meets were at reasonable times and locations. Youngest was the King of the Team, so no worries about him. The boys had fun and swam well. I long for those days.
The summer began as all summers do, with conflicts. Both boys had other sports practices that conflicted with swim practice. Unfortunately, this summer also began with something we had not yet experienced in my short career as a swimming parent: lovely weather. Lovely weather is great for soccer and baseball, for trips to the park, and for long romantic strolls in the evening. The park and the strolls don't really matter, but it was nice for soccer and baseball. Lovely weather is TERRIBLE for outdoor, early season swim practices. The water is cold and doesn't get warm. As I like to say about dry, sunny days with highs in the 70s and lows in the low 50s, it is great weather to do anything except get wet.
Generally speaking, I want the summer swim season to begin with unseasonably brutal, hot weather. Hot weather is not unusual in the mid-Atlantic in late May, but that is not what I am asking for. I am asking for mid-July, humid as hell, teasing 100 weather. For 4-5 straight days. I have a valid reason for this wish. When Middle spends too much time in cold water (and depending on the water temperature, too much time can be 12 seconds) he tends to turn an unhumanly and slightly frightening shade of purple. He also shakes like a bobblehead and literally chatters his teeth like a cartoon character. This summer was cool. And wet. Not good for Middle. Not a good start to the season.
Fortunately, the season went well despite the various shades of purple. At our team time trials, Middle destroyed all other 6 year olds, foretelling a summer of comparing himself to "8 & Unders" instead of 6 & Unders, because, in his mind, 6 & Unders are not in his class. He proved himself to be an adequate 8 & Under and a very good 6 & Under throughout the season. He scored in 2 meets and managed to complete a legal 25 fly on multiple occassions. He also reached times comparable to those of his brother at age 8, and better than either of his parents could have hoped for. At the season ending banquet, he won most improved 6 & Under for the second year in a row. I told him to enjoy these most improved awards, because he will probably not get another one in his life. He was also rumored to be part of the runner-up Mixed Age (i.e., not in the same swimming age group) Cutest Couple with the 20 year old (and very cute) head coach, who calls him Logey, which he loves.
Eldest took a different path than his brother. Eldest started the season demonstrating that his winter of swimming was going to pay off by firmly establishing himself as the second best 9-10 boy on the team. By the end of the season, Eldest had scored more points in one meet as a 9 year old than he did in the entire season as an 8 year old. He also became the first Earle to win an individual A Meet event in 23 years. I bragged a little to the family about this accomplishment and was immediately informed by my sister-in-law that my nephew had won an event as an 8 year old. Of course, I had to check. Luckily, in the internet age, results for these things can be found quickly and easily. I am the type of person who will spend the time to check. I checked. Eldest is the first Earle to win an individual A Meet event in 23 years.
Last season, Eldest saw some of the swimmers win a "fancy" ribbon for their performance in the Divisional meet. He said he wanted one of those ribbons. I told him he had to get top 6 in Divisionals. This year, he earned two of those ribbons. He is also a faster butterflier at age 9 than his father was at the same age. Next summer he wants to make all stars, he has his sights set on some records and he wants one of the big awards. At this point, nothing will surprise me. Next summer should be fun.
Youngest established himself as the King of the Swim Team. He didn't swim. He just walked around the meets with minions everywhere serving his every need. Donut - check; hold me - check; entertain me - check; something to drink - check; ignore all others and worship the ground that I walk on - check. People from age 7-17 were fighting for his attention. This seemed fun at the time. Spending the last month trying to get him to realize he is not dictator for life has been less fun. I fear what he will be like when he is actually a member of the team.
All in all, summer swimming went well. Last summer I promised a Delaware update and after several weeks, my local correspondent did give me an update. I had burned myself out with unmatched coverage of the 2012 Olympics, so I never passed it on. Rather than make promises I can't keep, I will simply say the Delaware crew had a great summer. Feel free to give me details, which I will enjoy, or correct me if I am wrong. I feel comfortable I am correct. Summer swimming is fun, in all its forms. Any summer spent swimming is great.
More to come, including:
- Thoughts on the Tour de France and cycling in general post Lance;
- Fat Old Man Update;
- Preview of the Ironman World Championships from Kona;
- Fall Schedule - and more on How the (bleep) do you do this?
- Random idioticness?
- Almost naked pictures of attractive people (that's just to get you back, especially my Volleyball Insider.)
At one point in my life, I was single. I got married, ending that stage of my life. The transition from single to married was fairly benign. I lived with The Wife for a little more than a year before we got married. Many of my closest friends were already married, and before moving in with The Wife, I was living with three very fine gentlemen, all of whom were at least 3 years younger than me. After getting married, my social life was fairly similiar to what it had been pre-wedding.
At one point in my life, I was married with no children. The Wife gave birth to Eldest, ending that stage of my life. The transition from married with no children to married with child was fairly significant. Only a few of my closest friends had children when Eldest was born. Before having children, The Wife and I went out somewhat regularly, ate at restaurants, slept late on weekends, and regularly socialized with other people. After Eldest was born, our social lives changed rather dramatically. We rarely went to dinner at restaurants, went out significantly less frequently, and socializing decreased. Even when we did socialize with others, we had another human being to care for at all times, putting a bit of a damper on our activities.
At one point in my life, I was married with one child. The Wife gave birth to Middle, ending that stage of my life. Let's be honest here, at some point, all Hell breaks loose, and we don't need to go through the fine pattern I set forth above. Two kids changed my life, as did three.
When we had two kids, people with one would ask us how we do it. The answer I always gave was, "the same way you do one kid, you just do it." When we had three kids, people with two would ask us how we do it. The answer I always gave was, "the same way you do two kids, you just do it." That was back when they were all under 6 years old. As they have grown and become soccer players and swimmers and basketball players and cub scouts and scholars and independent little creatures, I really am not sure how we do it. Our schedule, which I will elaborate on at another time, does not fit in a 24 hour day. I know how to do 3 kids, I do not know how to do 3 active kids. I realize the answer never changes, "you just do it", but it seems a little more impossible. And Youngest isn't even in an activity yet.
This past summer was the end of the good ol' days. Two boys participating in one sport (swimming), at the same time and place. A babysitter took them to practices. Meets were at reasonable times and locations. Youngest was the King of the Team, so no worries about him. The boys had fun and swam well. I long for those days.
The summer began as all summers do, with conflicts. Both boys had other sports practices that conflicted with swim practice. Unfortunately, this summer also began with something we had not yet experienced in my short career as a swimming parent: lovely weather. Lovely weather is great for soccer and baseball, for trips to the park, and for long romantic strolls in the evening. The park and the strolls don't really matter, but it was nice for soccer and baseball. Lovely weather is TERRIBLE for outdoor, early season swim practices. The water is cold and doesn't get warm. As I like to say about dry, sunny days with highs in the 70s and lows in the low 50s, it is great weather to do anything except get wet.
Generally speaking, I want the summer swim season to begin with unseasonably brutal, hot weather. Hot weather is not unusual in the mid-Atlantic in late May, but that is not what I am asking for. I am asking for mid-July, humid as hell, teasing 100 weather. For 4-5 straight days. I have a valid reason for this wish. When Middle spends too much time in cold water (and depending on the water temperature, too much time can be 12 seconds) he tends to turn an unhumanly and slightly frightening shade of purple. He also shakes like a bobblehead and literally chatters his teeth like a cartoon character. This summer was cool. And wet. Not good for Middle. Not a good start to the season.
Fortunately, the season went well despite the various shades of purple. At our team time trials, Middle destroyed all other 6 year olds, foretelling a summer of comparing himself to "8 & Unders" instead of 6 & Unders, because, in his mind, 6 & Unders are not in his class. He proved himself to be an adequate 8 & Under and a very good 6 & Under throughout the season. He scored in 2 meets and managed to complete a legal 25 fly on multiple occassions. He also reached times comparable to those of his brother at age 8, and better than either of his parents could have hoped for. At the season ending banquet, he won most improved 6 & Under for the second year in a row. I told him to enjoy these most improved awards, because he will probably not get another one in his life. He was also rumored to be part of the runner-up Mixed Age (i.e., not in the same swimming age group) Cutest Couple with the 20 year old (and very cute) head coach, who calls him Logey, which he loves.
Eldest took a different path than his brother. Eldest started the season demonstrating that his winter of swimming was going to pay off by firmly establishing himself as the second best 9-10 boy on the team. By the end of the season, Eldest had scored more points in one meet as a 9 year old than he did in the entire season as an 8 year old. He also became the first Earle to win an individual A Meet event in 23 years. I bragged a little to the family about this accomplishment and was immediately informed by my sister-in-law that my nephew had won an event as an 8 year old. Of course, I had to check. Luckily, in the internet age, results for these things can be found quickly and easily. I am the type of person who will spend the time to check. I checked. Eldest is the first Earle to win an individual A Meet event in 23 years.
Last season, Eldest saw some of the swimmers win a "fancy" ribbon for their performance in the Divisional meet. He said he wanted one of those ribbons. I told him he had to get top 6 in Divisionals. This year, he earned two of those ribbons. He is also a faster butterflier at age 9 than his father was at the same age. Next summer he wants to make all stars, he has his sights set on some records and he wants one of the big awards. At this point, nothing will surprise me. Next summer should be fun.
Youngest established himself as the King of the Swim Team. He didn't swim. He just walked around the meets with minions everywhere serving his every need. Donut - check; hold me - check; entertain me - check; something to drink - check; ignore all others and worship the ground that I walk on - check. People from age 7-17 were fighting for his attention. This seemed fun at the time. Spending the last month trying to get him to realize he is not dictator for life has been less fun. I fear what he will be like when he is actually a member of the team.
All in all, summer swimming went well. Last summer I promised a Delaware update and after several weeks, my local correspondent did give me an update. I had burned myself out with unmatched coverage of the 2012 Olympics, so I never passed it on. Rather than make promises I can't keep, I will simply say the Delaware crew had a great summer. Feel free to give me details, which I will enjoy, or correct me if I am wrong. I feel comfortable I am correct. Summer swimming is fun, in all its forms. Any summer spent swimming is great.
More to come, including:
- Thoughts on the Tour de France and cycling in general post Lance;
- Fat Old Man Update;
- Preview of the Ironman World Championships from Kona;
- Fall Schedule - and more on How the (bleep) do you do this?
- Random idioticness?
- Almost naked pictures of attractive people (that's just to get you back, especially my Volleyball Insider.)
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Summer Update #1
It appears I took the summer off.
It has been somewhat of a crazy summer. I have let a few things slip and consequently left you, my almost 10 loyal readers, without my witty observations concerning local youth sports, random (and often obscure) sports, fat old men, and parenthood in general. As things have now settled a bit, and the swimming world championships are going on, I feel obligated to remedy my failures. Over the next several days I will give updates on things I should have been commenting on anyway. I will try not to take 2 months off again.
Format will start present and go back in time. Today's update concerns the ongoing World Swimming Championships. This is appropriate, because my public writings began with commentary on the US Olympic Swimming Trials. That's back when I was light and witty, before I started to become heavy and deep. Well, I have been heavy for a while now, and I'm not sure I am really that deep, but I digress.
The World Swimming Championships are a championship swimming meet for swimmers from all over the world. Funny how that works, huh? It happens every other year, during odd numbered years, so it doesn't conflict with the Olympics. Swimming has always been a favorite Olympic sport in the US, but it has never found a foothold outside of Olympic years. If you need confirmation of this fact, take note that the IOC amended the swimming schedule in Beijing so that finals were telecast live in prime time in the US and the finals of the World Swimming Championships are on the Universal Sports Network, which about 76 people in the US get.
From what little I have read about this network, I am their target audience. They offer programming of your (well, someone's) favorite olympic and adventure sports. Do you know anyone else who records and watches swimming, cycling, track and field, and triathlon events on TV? Do you know anyone else who does not have children over the age of 9, but have attended a high school cross country race, swim meet and track meet in the last year? Yes, I actually did that. Why? One could argue I have no life, and one would not necessarily be wrong. However, I also do this stuff because I genuinely enjoy these Olympic sports that no one else cares about unless the year is divisible by 4. So the Universal Sports Network sounds like it was made for me. Of course, I am not one of the 76 people mentioned above, so I don't get to watch the World Swimming Championships. That bugs me more than it should.
Nevertheless, we live in the information age, so I have many outlets from which to obtain the information I desire. The World Swimming Championships are important for a few reasons. It gives elite international swimmers a chance to test themselves against the best in the world, it gives swimming crazed people something to do and it gives Natalie Coughlin, Laslo Cseh and other really old swimmer-types more excuses to not give up and get a real job. Ten years ago it introduced the world to an 18 year old phenom who won 4 gold and 2 silver medals. That guy went on to become the most decorated Olympian ever. I'm not saying that will happen this year, but there are some phenoms in Barcelona.
I know you don't really want my analysis of the first 5 days of the World Swimming Championships, so I will stick to some highlights:
1. Ryan Lochte won his first gold medal in the 200 IM today. Women across the US (including the one in my house) swoon. Up to this point, Lochte's meet has been a mild disappointment, winning a silver in the 4x100 free relay after losing to France AGAIN and finishing 4th in the 200 free. Perhaps his reality show, What Would Ryan Lochte Do?, has interfered with his training. If you haven't seen this gold standard of American television, all I can tell you is what my Ryan Lochte Insider told me, "This just proves that he should be seen and not heard."
2. Katie Ledecky won the 1500 free and broke the world record by 6 seconds, won the 400 free and swam on the winning 4x200 free relay. She has the 800 free on Saturday. The little 15 year old girl with the big smile who shocked the world with a gold in the 800 free last year has grown into a 16 year old monster who destroys the hopes and dreams of distance swimmers all around the globe. She still has the big smile, though.
3. Missy Franklin. 4 swims, 4 golds; 3 swims to go. 'Nuf said.
4. Rowdy Gaines, who was a great story in 1984, continues to baffle me as a television commentator. In the men's 4x100 free relay, he said France was completely out of it. Then France won gold. In the women's relay, he said the race was all but over after the first leg, with Australia holding a large lead. The US won. Maybe that was because it was a RELAY, and THREE people still needed to swim. In the men's relay, he failed to mention that Anthony Ervin is a drop dead sprinter when Ervin took a big league in the first 50. Shockingly, Ervin died like a rock and his lead disappeared. Rowdy said for both relays that he broke them down for hours trying to determine what would or could happen. Four swimmers, four best times, four best relay splits. Not much analysis there. Of course, then he spends the entire relay talking about what he thinks will happen, rather than what is happening. Maybe he should just go in blind. Or quit. Or be fired. Sadly, he won't and we will have to endure Rowdy in Brazil.
5. US dominance in the 100 back continues. 1-2 for Grevers and Thoman.
6. US still dominates the meet, but that medal count looks a little weak without Phelps swimming.
7. Speaking of Phelps, he was asked if he would come back for Brazil. A year ago his answer was, "No, no, no, no, no, not going to happen." That is a direct quote. This week his answer was, basically, "I'm not planning anything, but you don't know what is going to happen in the future. " Retirement, so nice in theory, so hard in reality.
8. Predictions: Missy gets 2 more golds, plus a bronze; Lochte wins 3 more golds; Phelps does not swim Rio; Ledecky dominates the 800 free.
That's it for the World Swimming Championships. For now.
Other observations:
1. Eric Snowden has been let out of the Moscow Airport and into Russia. How long until some jack-ass politician says we should boycot Sochi? Oh, wait, that already happened.
2. Summer sports without the Olympics gets kind of boring.
3. I would honestly rather have a super hot summer than a super wet summer.
4. Why do people post pictures of their food on Facebook? Is it supposed to make me jealous? Is it supposed to make me hungry? It doesn't. If you made a cake that legitimately looks like a piece of art, go ahead and post a picture. Otherwise, put the freakin phone away and eat your damn food. I don't need to see it. And neither does anyone else.
5. I am now on Twitter. Follow me @vasportsdad. Random comments on sports and kids almost every day. Hopefully it won't turn into ridiculous conversations with my Volleyball Insider and my Philadelphia Union Insider.
Things to look forward to:
1. Spring Sports wrap-up.
2. Summer Sports wrap-up.
3. Fat old man update.
4. Tour de France wrap-up.
5. Preview of the Ironman World Championships from Kona.
6. Random idioticness?
7. More almost naked pictures of attractive people (that's just to get you back, especially my Volleyball Insider.)
It has been somewhat of a crazy summer. I have let a few things slip and consequently left you, my almost 10 loyal readers, without my witty observations concerning local youth sports, random (and often obscure) sports, fat old men, and parenthood in general. As things have now settled a bit, and the swimming world championships are going on, I feel obligated to remedy my failures. Over the next several days I will give updates on things I should have been commenting on anyway. I will try not to take 2 months off again.
Format will start present and go back in time. Today's update concerns the ongoing World Swimming Championships. This is appropriate, because my public writings began with commentary on the US Olympic Swimming Trials. That's back when I was light and witty, before I started to become heavy and deep. Well, I have been heavy for a while now, and I'm not sure I am really that deep, but I digress.
The World Swimming Championships are a championship swimming meet for swimmers from all over the world. Funny how that works, huh? It happens every other year, during odd numbered years, so it doesn't conflict with the Olympics. Swimming has always been a favorite Olympic sport in the US, but it has never found a foothold outside of Olympic years. If you need confirmation of this fact, take note that the IOC amended the swimming schedule in Beijing so that finals were telecast live in prime time in the US and the finals of the World Swimming Championships are on the Universal Sports Network, which about 76 people in the US get.
From what little I have read about this network, I am their target audience. They offer programming of your (well, someone's) favorite olympic and adventure sports. Do you know anyone else who records and watches swimming, cycling, track and field, and triathlon events on TV? Do you know anyone else who does not have children over the age of 9, but have attended a high school cross country race, swim meet and track meet in the last year? Yes, I actually did that. Why? One could argue I have no life, and one would not necessarily be wrong. However, I also do this stuff because I genuinely enjoy these Olympic sports that no one else cares about unless the year is divisible by 4. So the Universal Sports Network sounds like it was made for me. Of course, I am not one of the 76 people mentioned above, so I don't get to watch the World Swimming Championships. That bugs me more than it should.
Nevertheless, we live in the information age, so I have many outlets from which to obtain the information I desire. The World Swimming Championships are important for a few reasons. It gives elite international swimmers a chance to test themselves against the best in the world, it gives swimming crazed people something to do and it gives Natalie Coughlin, Laslo Cseh and other really old swimmer-types more excuses to not give up and get a real job. Ten years ago it introduced the world to an 18 year old phenom who won 4 gold and 2 silver medals. That guy went on to become the most decorated Olympian ever. I'm not saying that will happen this year, but there are some phenoms in Barcelona.
I know you don't really want my analysis of the first 5 days of the World Swimming Championships, so I will stick to some highlights:
1. Ryan Lochte won his first gold medal in the 200 IM today. Women across the US (including the one in my house) swoon. Up to this point, Lochte's meet has been a mild disappointment, winning a silver in the 4x100 free relay after losing to France AGAIN and finishing 4th in the 200 free. Perhaps his reality show, What Would Ryan Lochte Do?, has interfered with his training. If you haven't seen this gold standard of American television, all I can tell you is what my Ryan Lochte Insider told me, "This just proves that he should be seen and not heard."
2. Katie Ledecky won the 1500 free and broke the world record by 6 seconds, won the 400 free and swam on the winning 4x200 free relay. She has the 800 free on Saturday. The little 15 year old girl with the big smile who shocked the world with a gold in the 800 free last year has grown into a 16 year old monster who destroys the hopes and dreams of distance swimmers all around the globe. She still has the big smile, though.
3. Missy Franklin. 4 swims, 4 golds; 3 swims to go. 'Nuf said.
4. Rowdy Gaines, who was a great story in 1984, continues to baffle me as a television commentator. In the men's 4x100 free relay, he said France was completely out of it. Then France won gold. In the women's relay, he said the race was all but over after the first leg, with Australia holding a large lead. The US won. Maybe that was because it was a RELAY, and THREE people still needed to swim. In the men's relay, he failed to mention that Anthony Ervin is a drop dead sprinter when Ervin took a big league in the first 50. Shockingly, Ervin died like a rock and his lead disappeared. Rowdy said for both relays that he broke them down for hours trying to determine what would or could happen. Four swimmers, four best times, four best relay splits. Not much analysis there. Of course, then he spends the entire relay talking about what he thinks will happen, rather than what is happening. Maybe he should just go in blind. Or quit. Or be fired. Sadly, he won't and we will have to endure Rowdy in Brazil.
5. US dominance in the 100 back continues. 1-2 for Grevers and Thoman.
6. US still dominates the meet, but that medal count looks a little weak without Phelps swimming.
7. Speaking of Phelps, he was asked if he would come back for Brazil. A year ago his answer was, "No, no, no, no, no, not going to happen." That is a direct quote. This week his answer was, basically, "I'm not planning anything, but you don't know what is going to happen in the future. " Retirement, so nice in theory, so hard in reality.
8. Predictions: Missy gets 2 more golds, plus a bronze; Lochte wins 3 more golds; Phelps does not swim Rio; Ledecky dominates the 800 free.
That's it for the World Swimming Championships. For now.
Other observations:
1. Eric Snowden has been let out of the Moscow Airport and into Russia. How long until some jack-ass politician says we should boycot Sochi? Oh, wait, that already happened.
2. Summer sports without the Olympics gets kind of boring.
3. I would honestly rather have a super hot summer than a super wet summer.
4. Why do people post pictures of their food on Facebook? Is it supposed to make me jealous? Is it supposed to make me hungry? It doesn't. If you made a cake that legitimately looks like a piece of art, go ahead and post a picture. Otherwise, put the freakin phone away and eat your damn food. I don't need to see it. And neither does anyone else.
5. I am now on Twitter. Follow me @vasportsdad. Random comments on sports and kids almost every day. Hopefully it won't turn into ridiculous conversations with my Volleyball Insider and my Philadelphia Union Insider.
Things to look forward to:
1. Spring Sports wrap-up.
2. Summer Sports wrap-up.
3. Fat old man update.
4. Tour de France wrap-up.
5. Preview of the Ironman World Championships from Kona.
6. Random idioticness?
7. More almost naked pictures of attractive people (that's just to get you back, especially my Volleyball Insider.)
Friday, May 31, 2013
Winning and Ugly Winning
Wow, has it really been a month? A weekend off for Memorial Day, a rainy weekend cancelling games, a conference in Dallas and a weekend spent camping. Yes, it really has been a month.
I have been thinking about the last game Eldest played this spring. I worried about this game for several weeks. Ultimately, the game came out about as bad as I expected. We won 11-0. That's not a typo. We won. The final score was 11-0. Thankfully, my boys became selfish in the second half. If they had even remotely considered passing to the WIDE OPEN teammate standing in front of the goal, rather than taking a bad angled shot while covered by 2 defenders, we probably could have put in 15-16 goals. For the sake of sportsmanship and minimizing the feeling of shame on the winning coach, I am glad they started thinking of personal glory, rather than team accomplishment.
My fear was created by several conversations with the father of a friend of Eldest's. We had discussed the soccer season, as his son was on Eldest's team last fall. Early in the season he told me he thought his son's team would go winless this spring. I doubted that, but as we crossed paths at various swimming, soccer and school events, it became apparent that he was correct. I also began to worry about what my freight train of a team might do to theirs.
I knew they lost their first game "something like 12-0". That loss was to the only team Eldest has lost to this spring. You may recall we lost 5-3 after being down 4-1 at halftime. You may recall that the coach (who shall remain nameless and continue to refer to himself in the third person) made a substitution error, leaving him with two of his strongest players on the bench at the end of the game. You may not know that the best player on the team (my little Maradona) did not play in that game, as he had not yet joined the team at that point. At this point, more than a few parents on our team believe we would win a rematch. The nameless coach agrees.
Knowing that a team we are essentially on par with defeated our friend's team "something like 12-0" weighed on me. I want my boys to do well. The secret I don't tell them is that not one of them hates losing more than me. We lost our game and they were over it by the time the Gatorade was finished. I'm still not quite over it. I will never get over losing my last swim meet as a coach. That was in 1997. However, I do not enjoy humiliating people, especially 9 year olds. Heading into this game, I feared humiliation. Five minutes into the game, sitting on a 2-0 lead, I feared I had under-estimated the result.
To make matters worse, it was a cold, rainy day. About 10 minutes into the game, my goalie yelled to me that he was cold. All I could tell him was to jump up and down, I didn't expect him to see much action. He did see a little action, and at one point in the game, I feared the other team would score. As much as I don't like to humiliate 9 year olds, there is always a little voice in my head reminding me that I don't want to get scored on. At several points, I looked to the other side of the field and saw Eldest's friend's parents huddled under an undersized umbrella, watching the game. As miserable as the weather was for everyone, at least our parents were watching a big win, not a blow-out loss.
I yelled at my boys a little less than normal. And with 10-15 minutes to go, at the suggestion of the referee, I pulled a player to play a man down. My biggest fear in doing that was realized when we scored two more goals. I found myself wondering what is worse, losing 9-0 in 40 minutes even strength, or losing 2-0 in 10 minutes while a man up. The game ended and my boys understandably were overjoyed, and loved to yell that they won, 11-0. I quickly bottled that up. I told them they played a good game, but we didn't need to scream out the score or make a big deal out of this. We shook hands, had snack and moved on.
I didn't see our friends after the game and didn't get a chance to talk to them about the game for a couple of days. They were pleased that I pulled a player in the game. I was still embarrassed.
We had an ugly win. We didn't win ugly, because that means you played ugly, but still won. The boys played well until they got too selfish. (I don't mind a little selfish, but this got out of hand.) Defensively, they played very well. But it was an ugly win. I felt bad for the other team. I felt bad for their teenager coach. I felt bad for the two boys on that team who are in the midst of their second consecutive winless season.
Little Maradona was gracious while scoring 5-6 goals in the game and didn't complain when I pulled him. He did want back in. I told him before the game that I may ask him to stop scoring. When I pulled him, I told him I was doing this instead of telling him not to score. He asked if he was going back in and I said yes, and subbed him in a few minutes later. While waiting he asked if he could score again. I said yes and he looked at me and said, "I make the goals." All I could do was smile and say, "Yes, you do."
I have been thinking about the last game Eldest played this spring. I worried about this game for several weeks. Ultimately, the game came out about as bad as I expected. We won 11-0. That's not a typo. We won. The final score was 11-0. Thankfully, my boys became selfish in the second half. If they had even remotely considered passing to the WIDE OPEN teammate standing in front of the goal, rather than taking a bad angled shot while covered by 2 defenders, we probably could have put in 15-16 goals. For the sake of sportsmanship and minimizing the feeling of shame on the winning coach, I am glad they started thinking of personal glory, rather than team accomplishment.
My fear was created by several conversations with the father of a friend of Eldest's. We had discussed the soccer season, as his son was on Eldest's team last fall. Early in the season he told me he thought his son's team would go winless this spring. I doubted that, but as we crossed paths at various swimming, soccer and school events, it became apparent that he was correct. I also began to worry about what my freight train of a team might do to theirs.
I knew they lost their first game "something like 12-0". That loss was to the only team Eldest has lost to this spring. You may recall we lost 5-3 after being down 4-1 at halftime. You may recall that the coach (who shall remain nameless and continue to refer to himself in the third person) made a substitution error, leaving him with two of his strongest players on the bench at the end of the game. You may not know that the best player on the team (my little Maradona) did not play in that game, as he had not yet joined the team at that point. At this point, more than a few parents on our team believe we would win a rematch. The nameless coach agrees.
Knowing that a team we are essentially on par with defeated our friend's team "something like 12-0" weighed on me. I want my boys to do well. The secret I don't tell them is that not one of them hates losing more than me. We lost our game and they were over it by the time the Gatorade was finished. I'm still not quite over it. I will never get over losing my last swim meet as a coach. That was in 1997. However, I do not enjoy humiliating people, especially 9 year olds. Heading into this game, I feared humiliation. Five minutes into the game, sitting on a 2-0 lead, I feared I had under-estimated the result.
To make matters worse, it was a cold, rainy day. About 10 minutes into the game, my goalie yelled to me that he was cold. All I could tell him was to jump up and down, I didn't expect him to see much action. He did see a little action, and at one point in the game, I feared the other team would score. As much as I don't like to humiliate 9 year olds, there is always a little voice in my head reminding me that I don't want to get scored on. At several points, I looked to the other side of the field and saw Eldest's friend's parents huddled under an undersized umbrella, watching the game. As miserable as the weather was for everyone, at least our parents were watching a big win, not a blow-out loss.
I yelled at my boys a little less than normal. And with 10-15 minutes to go, at the suggestion of the referee, I pulled a player to play a man down. My biggest fear in doing that was realized when we scored two more goals. I found myself wondering what is worse, losing 9-0 in 40 minutes even strength, or losing 2-0 in 10 minutes while a man up. The game ended and my boys understandably were overjoyed, and loved to yell that they won, 11-0. I quickly bottled that up. I told them they played a good game, but we didn't need to scream out the score or make a big deal out of this. We shook hands, had snack and moved on.
I didn't see our friends after the game and didn't get a chance to talk to them about the game for a couple of days. They were pleased that I pulled a player in the game. I was still embarrassed.
We had an ugly win. We didn't win ugly, because that means you played ugly, but still won. The boys played well until they got too selfish. (I don't mind a little selfish, but this got out of hand.) Defensively, they played very well. But it was an ugly win. I felt bad for the other team. I felt bad for their teenager coach. I felt bad for the two boys on that team who are in the midst of their second consecutive winless season.
Little Maradona was gracious while scoring 5-6 goals in the game and didn't complain when I pulled him. He did want back in. I told him before the game that I may ask him to stop scoring. When I pulled him, I told him I was doing this instead of telling him not to score. He asked if he was going back in and I said yes, and subbed him in a few minutes later. While waiting he asked if he could score again. I said yes and he looked at me and said, "I make the goals." All I could do was smile and say, "Yes, you do."
Friday, April 26, 2013
The Agony of DaFeet
What's the use of having your own blog if you can't use a bad play on words.
Sadly, the title says it all. Eldest's second soccer game of the season ended in a 5-3 loss. As a father, I told him he played well (which he did) and was happy to hear him say he was fine with it. After the game was over, he got a bag of chips and a bottle of Gatorade and he was over the loss. I had a little more trouble with it.
I knew this was going to be a tough game. We won our first game 3-1. It was well played, and we basically dominated the game, notwithstanding the fairly competitive score. Our opponents in the second game won their first game about 12-0. That was the estimate given to me by a friend who either intentionally gave up counting the score or forgot his abacus and couldn't keep up. When I got to the game, I recognized the assistant coach on our opponents as the man who completely outcoached me the previous spring. I had a pretty bad feeling at that point.
The game began about as badly as I feared. We gave up a pretty quick goal on a nice crossing pass to a wide open player in front of the goal. My entire defense left the goal open and our inexperienced goalie had no chance. We gave up a second goal on an incredible shot. I was fine with that one. I don't even remember the third goal. The fourth goal was some flukey corner kick that either curved into the goal, was an own-goal, or was perfectly placed for an easy shot by a teammate. I was too far away to see exactly what happened, but everyone closer looked surprised that the ball went in the net. That left us behind 4-0 at halftime. I was thinking a 7-1 final score would be a moral victory.
The second half was a completely different game. Our offense started putting some passes together and we got 2 goals early in the half. Then I had a self control moment. Our opponents had the ball in our penalty box with our goalie scrambling a bit. He managed to get his hands on the ball, but had questionable control (I will admit.) A player on the other team kicked the ball out of his hands and scored a goal. To this very moment, I am not sure if I was most upset that they scored the goal or that my goalie almost got kicked in the head. Admittedly, I don't know the exact rule for our U9 league, but I am fairly certain the ref should have protected the goalie, rather than letting him almost get kicked in the head.
My first thought was to berate the referee for failing to protect a 9 year old who I believe had adequate control of the ball. I quickly realized that wouldn't be the best move and that in my present state of mind I would have slipped into a profanity-laced tirade in front of my boys and their parents. I was, however, so angry I almost began said profanity-laced tirade under my breath. Luckily, I saw the three boys sitting on the ground right next to me and left it in my head. Score was now 5-2.
We quickly struck back to pull to 5-3. Visions of pulling out a tie started to dance in my head. A little later, I was wondering why we couldn't get the ball past midfield. I was pretty sure my pre-set line-up had us in a strong position at the end of the game and couldn't figure out what was wrong. Then I looked next to me and realized 2 of the boys I wanted on the field were sitting on the "bench". (There is no bench, but there they were, sitting on the ground next to me.) I checked my substitution schedule and realized I messed it up. We played solid defense (particularly Eldest who is becoming quite competitive) and held on for a 5-3 loss, despite what has been called my "Andy Ried-like in game decision."
I am coaching in a recreational league. The most important thing is to get everyone to play. I try to give everyone equal playing time and believe I have done a pretty good job. Realistically, the group who had trouble getting past midfield for the last 10 minutes would have been on the field during the 10 minutes that we scored 2 of our 3 goals. So my decision to not have a strong line-up on the field at the end of the game probably cost us nothing. But it still sat with me all day. I will wonder all season if we could have pulled out a 5-5 tie if I had the right line-up in the game for those last 10 minutes.
The boys deserve a ton of credit. They played with a lot of heart and never backed down, even after falling behind 4-0. That may be what gets to me the most. I feel like I let them down. I feel like we had a chance and my Andy Ried-like decision blew that chance. I am most likely wrong. It is unlikely we would have scored 3-4 goals in the last 10 minutes. But you never know.
Later in the day, we went to Middle's baseball game. He is in coach pitch, so everyone gets the chance to hit and there are almost no unassisted outs. The day was gorgeous. Eldest, Youngest and a couple of friends were running around the open grassy area playing. Middle got three outs, one while playing pitcher (outran the runner coming from third for a force out at home), two while playing first (field the ball, step on first). He had 3 solid hits and is convinced they won the game. I enjoyed watching him play. I enjoyed the beautiful day. I enjoyed watching the coach's son do his best Ryan ZImmerman impersonation by cleanly fielding a ball at third base and sailing the throw over the first baseman's head. Unfortunately, I spent most of the time thinking about that soccer game and wondering if I had just done things the way I planned...
Sadly, the title says it all. Eldest's second soccer game of the season ended in a 5-3 loss. As a father, I told him he played well (which he did) and was happy to hear him say he was fine with it. After the game was over, he got a bag of chips and a bottle of Gatorade and he was over the loss. I had a little more trouble with it.
I knew this was going to be a tough game. We won our first game 3-1. It was well played, and we basically dominated the game, notwithstanding the fairly competitive score. Our opponents in the second game won their first game about 12-0. That was the estimate given to me by a friend who either intentionally gave up counting the score or forgot his abacus and couldn't keep up. When I got to the game, I recognized the assistant coach on our opponents as the man who completely outcoached me the previous spring. I had a pretty bad feeling at that point.
The game began about as badly as I feared. We gave up a pretty quick goal on a nice crossing pass to a wide open player in front of the goal. My entire defense left the goal open and our inexperienced goalie had no chance. We gave up a second goal on an incredible shot. I was fine with that one. I don't even remember the third goal. The fourth goal was some flukey corner kick that either curved into the goal, was an own-goal, or was perfectly placed for an easy shot by a teammate. I was too far away to see exactly what happened, but everyone closer looked surprised that the ball went in the net. That left us behind 4-0 at halftime. I was thinking a 7-1 final score would be a moral victory.
The second half was a completely different game. Our offense started putting some passes together and we got 2 goals early in the half. Then I had a self control moment. Our opponents had the ball in our penalty box with our goalie scrambling a bit. He managed to get his hands on the ball, but had questionable control (I will admit.) A player on the other team kicked the ball out of his hands and scored a goal. To this very moment, I am not sure if I was most upset that they scored the goal or that my goalie almost got kicked in the head. Admittedly, I don't know the exact rule for our U9 league, but I am fairly certain the ref should have protected the goalie, rather than letting him almost get kicked in the head.
My first thought was to berate the referee for failing to protect a 9 year old who I believe had adequate control of the ball. I quickly realized that wouldn't be the best move and that in my present state of mind I would have slipped into a profanity-laced tirade in front of my boys and their parents. I was, however, so angry I almost began said profanity-laced tirade under my breath. Luckily, I saw the three boys sitting on the ground right next to me and left it in my head. Score was now 5-2.
We quickly struck back to pull to 5-3. Visions of pulling out a tie started to dance in my head. A little later, I was wondering why we couldn't get the ball past midfield. I was pretty sure my pre-set line-up had us in a strong position at the end of the game and couldn't figure out what was wrong. Then I looked next to me and realized 2 of the boys I wanted on the field were sitting on the "bench". (There is no bench, but there they were, sitting on the ground next to me.) I checked my substitution schedule and realized I messed it up. We played solid defense (particularly Eldest who is becoming quite competitive) and held on for a 5-3 loss, despite what has been called my "Andy Ried-like in game decision."
I am coaching in a recreational league. The most important thing is to get everyone to play. I try to give everyone equal playing time and believe I have done a pretty good job. Realistically, the group who had trouble getting past midfield for the last 10 minutes would have been on the field during the 10 minutes that we scored 2 of our 3 goals. So my decision to not have a strong line-up on the field at the end of the game probably cost us nothing. But it still sat with me all day. I will wonder all season if we could have pulled out a 5-5 tie if I had the right line-up in the game for those last 10 minutes.
The boys deserve a ton of credit. They played with a lot of heart and never backed down, even after falling behind 4-0. That may be what gets to me the most. I feel like I let them down. I feel like we had a chance and my Andy Ried-like decision blew that chance. I am most likely wrong. It is unlikely we would have scored 3-4 goals in the last 10 minutes. But you never know.
Later in the day, we went to Middle's baseball game. He is in coach pitch, so everyone gets the chance to hit and there are almost no unassisted outs. The day was gorgeous. Eldest, Youngest and a couple of friends were running around the open grassy area playing. Middle got three outs, one while playing pitcher (outran the runner coming from third for a force out at home), two while playing first (field the ball, step on first). He had 3 solid hits and is convinced they won the game. I enjoyed watching him play. I enjoyed the beautiful day. I enjoyed watching the coach's son do his best Ryan ZImmerman impersonation by cleanly fielding a ball at third base and sailing the throw over the first baseman's head. Unfortunately, I spent most of the time thinking about that soccer game and wondering if I had just done things the way I planned...
Friday, April 19, 2013
Victoire!!
This spring I was roped into coaching Eldest's soccer team. I didn't want to (explanation below) and tried to weasel out of it with mostly true comments about my work commitment and commute. Basically, I told the Coordinator I couldn't get out of work in time to then go through my 50-60 minute commute and still make practice by 5 or 6 o'clock.. He immediately told me that a 7 pm practice would be no problem and with the earlier daylight savings time, we should have plenty of light, at least by mid-season. I dwelled on this for a couple of days (that silence must have been brutal to him), then decided if he was that desparate, I'd do it.
I didn't want to coach because I am a competitive jack-ass. While assistant coaching Middle's Under 6 team last fall I had to resist the urge to take out one particularly good and (in my opinion) obnoxious little 5 year old who kept scoring and running up the field like he was Maradona. I don't let the more evil thoughts in my head get the best of me. I usually maintain a cheery demeanor and always remind the kids that playing and having fun are more important than who wins and loses and what the score is. But I don't generally like when even a small part of me is telling my right arm to pick up a soccer ball and launch it at some kid's head.
I also remember coaching Eldest's team last spring. Our first few games were great. I know we won a couple, we may have tied one, we may have lost one, but they were competitive games. I thought the boys were having fun and learning something. Then about halfway through the season we got trounced in a game. As competitive as I am, and as much as I hate losing, I am also realistic. On my golf trip, discussed a few weeks ago, I know I am one of the weaker players and that I don't put the effort into the game to beat most of the other guys. I am fine with that. My frustration in golf comes from losing balls and playing terribly compared to myself, not my position with others. If I swam a race against a clearly better swimmer, I would lose and I would accept that. If my team lost to a team of better players, I would handle it pretty well. This is not the upper most level of soccer, it is a recreational league.
But that first game we lost big, I felt like we were clearly outcoached. I had trouble accepting that. Mostly, I felt like I let my team down. We lost pretty big the following week, and I, once again, felt like we were outcoached. The boys on the other team were playing soccer. The boys on my team were basically chasing butterflies. Not literally, but they may as well have been chasing butterflies. At that point, I decided coaching soccer was not for me. Last fall, I assisted coaching Middle's team, but that is different from head coaching. I just do what the head coach says and the results are his report card, not mine. That's not exactly the best attitude, but I am volunteering and I don't spend the rest of the day feeling miserable and wondering if I am doing a disservice to a bunch of boys and their parents who spent a decent amount of money for their son to play soccer. This is a pretty good example of me not handling losing well and reading too much into it.
One year and a couple of desperate emails later, I found myself coaching again. I tried to correct some of the things I thought I did wrong last spring. I try to make practice fun, but to also teach them a little and make sure they learn both the skills and the strategy of the game. Based on my research of coaching youth soccer, I try to do too much. But I want to win and I want the boys to win. I'll be OK if we don't win every game, but I still want to win them all and I want the boys to be competitive. My son, and two other boys on his team, lost every game they played last fall. I want them to win. Winning and losing don't matter as much as fun and development in youth sports, but winning is better than losing. I think all kids need to lose from time to time because they need to understand that it is going to happen. If they become sports fans, they also need to understand that their favorite teams are going to lose fairly regularly. (Middle somehow has become a LeBron James and Miami Heat fan - he needs to learn this lesson some day. LeBron and the Heat aren't helping.) Kids also need to feel the thrill of victory. To walk off that field with a smile on their face. To not have to be reminded that having fun is the most important thing. At least from time to time.
Our first game was last Saturday, and we got my wish. Eldest and his two teammates from last fall got their win. Eldest scored our second goal in a 3-1 win. I was proud of his goal, because he got it through tenacity. He didn't give up on a 25/25/25/25 ball (that would be a ball in the midst of 4 different players who all have an equal chance at it), took it from the other three and put it into the net. I was equally proud of the team's third goal. One player slipped a pass between two defenders to a teammate wide open in front of the goal. Of course, what I remember most is the 1 of the 3-1 score.
This is the clearest sign that I hate losing more than I enjoy winning. Our boys played great. They created a number of shots, they had a couple of great goals (and one kind of lucky goal). They played good defense and mostly dominated possession. I remember the goal we gave up. I remember why we gave it up and I had to remind myself not to spike my paper pad after we gave up that goal. I then spent the next 10 minutes worried that our 2-0 easy victory was somehow going to turn into a 2-2 disappointing tie. I had to remind myself, many times, that winning isn't important and having fun and getting to play are what matters. I am more proud of how the boys played than I am of myself for not turning into a jack-ass in front of a team of 9 year old boys and their parents. But I was a little proud of myself for that.
When the game was over, hands were shaked and after game snacks were eaten, I allowed myself to enjoy the moment. I congratulated a very happy Eldest on a well played game and a win. About 5 minutes later I started thinking of ways to improve on that goal we gave up. I really do hate losing.
I didn't want to coach because I am a competitive jack-ass. While assistant coaching Middle's Under 6 team last fall I had to resist the urge to take out one particularly good and (in my opinion) obnoxious little 5 year old who kept scoring and running up the field like he was Maradona. I don't let the more evil thoughts in my head get the best of me. I usually maintain a cheery demeanor and always remind the kids that playing and having fun are more important than who wins and loses and what the score is. But I don't generally like when even a small part of me is telling my right arm to pick up a soccer ball and launch it at some kid's head.
I also remember coaching Eldest's team last spring. Our first few games were great. I know we won a couple, we may have tied one, we may have lost one, but they were competitive games. I thought the boys were having fun and learning something. Then about halfway through the season we got trounced in a game. As competitive as I am, and as much as I hate losing, I am also realistic. On my golf trip, discussed a few weeks ago, I know I am one of the weaker players and that I don't put the effort into the game to beat most of the other guys. I am fine with that. My frustration in golf comes from losing balls and playing terribly compared to myself, not my position with others. If I swam a race against a clearly better swimmer, I would lose and I would accept that. If my team lost to a team of better players, I would handle it pretty well. This is not the upper most level of soccer, it is a recreational league.
But that first game we lost big, I felt like we were clearly outcoached. I had trouble accepting that. Mostly, I felt like I let my team down. We lost pretty big the following week, and I, once again, felt like we were outcoached. The boys on the other team were playing soccer. The boys on my team were basically chasing butterflies. Not literally, but they may as well have been chasing butterflies. At that point, I decided coaching soccer was not for me. Last fall, I assisted coaching Middle's team, but that is different from head coaching. I just do what the head coach says and the results are his report card, not mine. That's not exactly the best attitude, but I am volunteering and I don't spend the rest of the day feeling miserable and wondering if I am doing a disservice to a bunch of boys and their parents who spent a decent amount of money for their son to play soccer. This is a pretty good example of me not handling losing well and reading too much into it.
One year and a couple of desperate emails later, I found myself coaching again. I tried to correct some of the things I thought I did wrong last spring. I try to make practice fun, but to also teach them a little and make sure they learn both the skills and the strategy of the game. Based on my research of coaching youth soccer, I try to do too much. But I want to win and I want the boys to win. I'll be OK if we don't win every game, but I still want to win them all and I want the boys to be competitive. My son, and two other boys on his team, lost every game they played last fall. I want them to win. Winning and losing don't matter as much as fun and development in youth sports, but winning is better than losing. I think all kids need to lose from time to time because they need to understand that it is going to happen. If they become sports fans, they also need to understand that their favorite teams are going to lose fairly regularly. (Middle somehow has become a LeBron James and Miami Heat fan - he needs to learn this lesson some day. LeBron and the Heat aren't helping.) Kids also need to feel the thrill of victory. To walk off that field with a smile on their face. To not have to be reminded that having fun is the most important thing. At least from time to time.
Our first game was last Saturday, and we got my wish. Eldest and his two teammates from last fall got their win. Eldest scored our second goal in a 3-1 win. I was proud of his goal, because he got it through tenacity. He didn't give up on a 25/25/25/25 ball (that would be a ball in the midst of 4 different players who all have an equal chance at it), took it from the other three and put it into the net. I was equally proud of the team's third goal. One player slipped a pass between two defenders to a teammate wide open in front of the goal. Of course, what I remember most is the 1 of the 3-1 score.
This is the clearest sign that I hate losing more than I enjoy winning. Our boys played great. They created a number of shots, they had a couple of great goals (and one kind of lucky goal). They played good defense and mostly dominated possession. I remember the goal we gave up. I remember why we gave it up and I had to remind myself not to spike my paper pad after we gave up that goal. I then spent the next 10 minutes worried that our 2-0 easy victory was somehow going to turn into a 2-2 disappointing tie. I had to remind myself, many times, that winning isn't important and having fun and getting to play are what matters. I am more proud of how the boys played than I am of myself for not turning into a jack-ass in front of a team of 9 year old boys and their parents. But I was a little proud of myself for that.
When the game was over, hands were shaked and after game snacks were eaten, I allowed myself to enjoy the moment. I congratulated a very happy Eldest on a well played game and a win. About 5 minutes later I started thinking of ways to improve on that goal we gave up. I really do hate losing.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Pain for a Purpose
Every once in a while a suburban parent needs to find themselves somewhere without children. This past weekend, I went to my place. Annually, I meet up with a number of friends for a golf weekend. I say a "number" because it used to be a group of 8. Ironically, a few years ago we had an email argument about whether or not we should expand the number to include more than 8. Since that argument, the number of people has declined. This past weekend we had 5. I am sure we could find more people who want to participate in a golf weekend, but this is a special group of people. I'm not even sure how I fit in but we have discussed how none of us can think of anyone else who would fit just right. So, as people have bailed for various reasons, our numbers have dwindled.
I know a golf weekend for "the boys" is not unusual and is perhaps a bit cliche'. I know thousands of suburban dads leave the children and wives for a golf weekend and act in ways they probably do not when at home. I know we are not unique. But, as I drove home Sunday, exhausted and sore, I was wondering why I put myself through this.
I am a fairly boring person. Generally speaking, I don't enjoy the things that middle class Americans, even those in my age group and familial status, enjoy. I don't enjoy going out. I rarely drink. I don't like loud music, except under the right circumstances in my car. I don't like bars or restaurant-like places that act as bars. I rarely stay up late, and if I do, it usually involves reruns of some TV show, a Dallas Cowboys football game or a U.S. World Cup qualifier. I don't even watch as much sports as I did 5-10 years ago, much less the absurd amount I watched 15-20 years ago. Yet, here I was (or there I was, I guess), staying up late, in a restaurant-like place acting like a bar, with loud music and people drinking a lot. For three nights.
I am also getting old. I'm not like old-old, but the body can't handle what the body once could. I am sure that 15 years ago 36 holes of golf, in 20-25 mile per hour winds on a 40 degree day would have been bearable and survivable. Now, it makes the body hurt. A lot. Two day of this really puts a crimp in my style, and numerous cramps in my body. Perhaps if I played golf more than 6-8 times per year (4 of which are during this particular weekend) my body could take more. Despite my recognition of this, just like the nighttime thing, I found myself engaging in 2 rounds per day, 40 degree temperatures, 20-25 mph winds.
This explains why I was exhausted and stiff and in pain on Sunday driving home. This explains why I accomplished very little after getting home on Sunday. This explains why after 3 days away from my family, it may as well have been 4, because I was present, but not really there on Sunday. That made me feel guilty, so we can add guilt to exhaustion and pain.
I knew all of this going in, of course. Well, the pain is a little more than I remember. I'll be honest, I like golf. I don't, however, think my enjoyment of golf justifies the lack of sleep, exhaustion, stiffness and pain. Its the people. The fact is, the 4 people I shared this weekend with have become some of my closest friends. The irony is, the link that connects me to them never joins us.
When we were in one of the 2 restaurant-like establishments acting like a bar, we met a couple celebrating their anniversary. At one point, we were asked if we were high school friends or college friends or what? Except for me, the answer is high school friends. I am a friend of a friend. Literally. One of my best friends from college went to high school with the others I share my golf weekend with. Through various activities over the past 20 years (really? 20?), I have become friends with a number of his high school friends. I am now better friends with his high school friends than with my own. And I see them more than I see him.
If you asked me to name my best friend, I'm not sure what I would say. It depends on the period of my life. Not to sound corny, but my best friend right now is probably my wife. Although I don't think of her like that. If you asked me to name my 4 best friends, I could do it, and each of my "at some point in my life you were my best friend" friends would still be in the top 4. This is true even though I haven't seen one of them in about 5 years and I have no idea when I will see any of them.
The group I play golf with doesn't make the top 4 (sorry.) The difference is, I know when I will see them again. At a minimum, I will see them in about 12 months. And about 12 months after that. And about 12 months after that. I look forward to seeing them every year, and I enjoy knowing that I will see them. Of the 5 people who attended this year, 3 have never missed in over 10 years. The 2 who have missed one year (including me), missed for the birth of their first son. The male heir. You have to be around for the birth of the heir to throne. So that one miss is justified. It would literally take a birth or a death or perhaps a plague to keep us away. This is an unbreakable tradition.
As I have become a little older, and a little more tied down by family commitments, the only thing that keeps me doing anything is the unbreakable tradition. If the golf weekend wasn't an unbreakable tradition I probably would have stopped several years ago. We have a few people who have. I am not complaining or judging, because I understand the reasons that make something stop. As I have learned from my various attempts to exercise regularly, if I never give myself an excuse to miss something, I never have an excuse to miss. Don't get me wrong, I love this weekend and I do not want to miss. But the occassional first baseball game, or rainy weekend, or tough week at work is always enough of an excuse to avoid a weekend that will result in exhaustion and pain. There is always an excuse, but I never let myself have it. One excuse turns into five and eventually you just never go again, unless there truly is no excuse.
I have seen a regular poker game and various exercise programs live by the "no excuse" rule and die when it was broken. I have seen a New Years Day brunch go by the wayside. I have seen Eldest's best friend once in the past 12 months, because her family and our family let everyday life stop the traditional times we saw each other. I will not watch that happen to my golf weekend and to the 5 people I expect to see at least every 12 months.
Traditions are important. They are important to culture, to custom and to families. They are important to friends and to rituals. They are important to life. Without traditions, we wouldn't always open presents at our house on Christmas morning or eat dinner at Red Robin on New Years Eve or go sightseeing on Presidents Day. But more importantly for me, traditions keep me from letting laziness, tiredness and basic inertia from getting in the way of doing things that I want to do, but can find a reason not to. I need to find more traditions so I can see those 4 people mentioned above a little more often. I need to build and keep traditions to make sure my family keeps doing little fun things together, especially as they get older and stop wanting to do little fun things with Mom and Dad. I need to keep subjecting myself to three things I don't like (late night, bar and pain) to keep doing one thing, and seeing 4 people, I love, late March every year.
Traditions are important. I'm not sure I knew how important until I was driving home, exhausted, stiff and sore this past Sunday, looking forward to next year.
I know a golf weekend for "the boys" is not unusual and is perhaps a bit cliche'. I know thousands of suburban dads leave the children and wives for a golf weekend and act in ways they probably do not when at home. I know we are not unique. But, as I drove home Sunday, exhausted and sore, I was wondering why I put myself through this.
I am a fairly boring person. Generally speaking, I don't enjoy the things that middle class Americans, even those in my age group and familial status, enjoy. I don't enjoy going out. I rarely drink. I don't like loud music, except under the right circumstances in my car. I don't like bars or restaurant-like places that act as bars. I rarely stay up late, and if I do, it usually involves reruns of some TV show, a Dallas Cowboys football game or a U.S. World Cup qualifier. I don't even watch as much sports as I did 5-10 years ago, much less the absurd amount I watched 15-20 years ago. Yet, here I was (or there I was, I guess), staying up late, in a restaurant-like place acting like a bar, with loud music and people drinking a lot. For three nights.
I am also getting old. I'm not like old-old, but the body can't handle what the body once could. I am sure that 15 years ago 36 holes of golf, in 20-25 mile per hour winds on a 40 degree day would have been bearable and survivable. Now, it makes the body hurt. A lot. Two day of this really puts a crimp in my style, and numerous cramps in my body. Perhaps if I played golf more than 6-8 times per year (4 of which are during this particular weekend) my body could take more. Despite my recognition of this, just like the nighttime thing, I found myself engaging in 2 rounds per day, 40 degree temperatures, 20-25 mph winds.
This explains why I was exhausted and stiff and in pain on Sunday driving home. This explains why I accomplished very little after getting home on Sunday. This explains why after 3 days away from my family, it may as well have been 4, because I was present, but not really there on Sunday. That made me feel guilty, so we can add guilt to exhaustion and pain.
I knew all of this going in, of course. Well, the pain is a little more than I remember. I'll be honest, I like golf. I don't, however, think my enjoyment of golf justifies the lack of sleep, exhaustion, stiffness and pain. Its the people. The fact is, the 4 people I shared this weekend with have become some of my closest friends. The irony is, the link that connects me to them never joins us.
When we were in one of the 2 restaurant-like establishments acting like a bar, we met a couple celebrating their anniversary. At one point, we were asked if we were high school friends or college friends or what? Except for me, the answer is high school friends. I am a friend of a friend. Literally. One of my best friends from college went to high school with the others I share my golf weekend with. Through various activities over the past 20 years (really? 20?), I have become friends with a number of his high school friends. I am now better friends with his high school friends than with my own. And I see them more than I see him.
If you asked me to name my best friend, I'm not sure what I would say. It depends on the period of my life. Not to sound corny, but my best friend right now is probably my wife. Although I don't think of her like that. If you asked me to name my 4 best friends, I could do it, and each of my "at some point in my life you were my best friend" friends would still be in the top 4. This is true even though I haven't seen one of them in about 5 years and I have no idea when I will see any of them.
The group I play golf with doesn't make the top 4 (sorry.) The difference is, I know when I will see them again. At a minimum, I will see them in about 12 months. And about 12 months after that. And about 12 months after that. I look forward to seeing them every year, and I enjoy knowing that I will see them. Of the 5 people who attended this year, 3 have never missed in over 10 years. The 2 who have missed one year (including me), missed for the birth of their first son. The male heir. You have to be around for the birth of the heir to throne. So that one miss is justified. It would literally take a birth or a death or perhaps a plague to keep us away. This is an unbreakable tradition.
As I have become a little older, and a little more tied down by family commitments, the only thing that keeps me doing anything is the unbreakable tradition. If the golf weekend wasn't an unbreakable tradition I probably would have stopped several years ago. We have a few people who have. I am not complaining or judging, because I understand the reasons that make something stop. As I have learned from my various attempts to exercise regularly, if I never give myself an excuse to miss something, I never have an excuse to miss. Don't get me wrong, I love this weekend and I do not want to miss. But the occassional first baseball game, or rainy weekend, or tough week at work is always enough of an excuse to avoid a weekend that will result in exhaustion and pain. There is always an excuse, but I never let myself have it. One excuse turns into five and eventually you just never go again, unless there truly is no excuse.
I have seen a regular poker game and various exercise programs live by the "no excuse" rule and die when it was broken. I have seen a New Years Day brunch go by the wayside. I have seen Eldest's best friend once in the past 12 months, because her family and our family let everyday life stop the traditional times we saw each other. I will not watch that happen to my golf weekend and to the 5 people I expect to see at least every 12 months.
Traditions are important. They are important to culture, to custom and to families. They are important to friends and to rituals. They are important to life. Without traditions, we wouldn't always open presents at our house on Christmas morning or eat dinner at Red Robin on New Years Eve or go sightseeing on Presidents Day. But more importantly for me, traditions keep me from letting laziness, tiredness and basic inertia from getting in the way of doing things that I want to do, but can find a reason not to. I need to find more traditions so I can see those 4 people mentioned above a little more often. I need to build and keep traditions to make sure my family keeps doing little fun things together, especially as they get older and stop wanting to do little fun things with Mom and Dad. I need to keep subjecting myself to three things I don't like (late night, bar and pain) to keep doing one thing, and seeing 4 people, I love, late March every year.
Traditions are important. I'm not sure I knew how important until I was driving home, exhausted, stiff and sore this past Sunday, looking forward to next year.
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Unbeaten...or Unbeatable?
That is the question asked in my house after not one, but TWO basketball seasons that ended without a loss. That's right, not one loss for either boy playing basketball this winter. I am not talking about some rinky-dink, local youth league, this is the Chantilly Youth Associati...OK, rinky-dink local youth league. Still, no losses, two teams.
The first undefeated season came for Eldest. The season started a little rough, with a low-scoring, close opener. A win is a win, though. An early season tie (I said undefeated season, not perfect season) raised some questions about how the season would go. Eventually, though, the Blue Ninja Dragons found their groove and started to play as a team. They had a few close calls as the season progressed. They also showed themselves to be closers, finishing more than one game with dominant fourth quarters to turn a close game into a blow-out or a potential loss into a close win. Each victory (and the one tie) raised the stakes for the season. As the number of games left in the season diminished, the "its all about fun and learning the game" thoughts diminished as well. The pressure was on, at least for the parents. Well, at least for me. The coaches remained as cool as the other side of the pillow (yes, I am stealing from Stu Scott for this).
In all seriousness, the coaches were awesome. I missed a couple games, either playing daddy to Youngest or taking Middle to his practices/games, but saw at least 9 of the 12 games. Of the games I saw, the best player on the court was on the other team for more than half the games. Of the 3 games I missed, the Wife told me the best player on the court was on the other team for at least one of them. The Blue Ninja Dragons were a team though. I give a lot of credit to two fathers who volunteered their time and demonstrated an amazing amount of patience, positive feedback and teaching ability in getting nine 3rd grade boys to play team basketball. The boys learned a ton and won every game by being the better team, even if they were not always the better collection of players.
The last practice was held on a Tuesday night before the final Saturday game. The assistant coach was going to miss the game (for a vacation in Mexico without his kids), but said it was going to kill him to miss that last game. The head coach remained as cool as ever, but admitted he really wanted them to finish their season without a loss. He knew this was a big deal, even if it was a rinky-dink local youth league.
In the first half of the final game, the Blue Ninja Dragons demonstrated their version of team basketball, as always. They were also making shots, which was a rare treat. The offense implemented by the coaches created a ton of chances for the boys, but their shooting percentage was less than desirable. However, in the final game, they came to play. Once again, though, the best player on the floor played for the other team. Early in the game, I was pleased to see that their offense consisted of one player dribbling around for a while, then going baseline before putting up a backwards, over the head, reverse lay-up. I am not kidding, he did this about 5-6 times. The problem is, in a 3rd grade basketball game, someone with his dribbling ability dominates. If this kid had any inclination to pass, or some sort of conscience about putting up ridiculous shots, the Blue Ninja Dragons would not have built up a solid first half lead.
The second half didn't go as well. The Blue Ninja Dragons started to miss a few more shots, and superstar from their opponents started dropping in some of his prayers. Eldest proved his meddle with his typical array of hustle plays, solidly set screens and the first, and only, three point play of the season for the team. I can remember many practices ending with Eldest asking to practice free throws. Free throws were a rare treat in 3rd grade basketball and Eldest had never had the chance to shoot one in a game. Regardless, there he was, week after week, practicing free throws. So, as the lead was slowly decreasing, he got a loose ball in the lane and put it up, the whistle blew and the ball dropped through the net. Count the basket! Foul on the shot. Eldest stepped up and the practice paid off. The free throw bounced softly off the front of the rim and rolled through. Three points!! (Yes, I am bragging about basketball, something I thought I would never be able to do.)
The fourth quarter began with a 4 point lead and the two best all around players on the Ninja Dragons sitting on the bench. WHAT???!!!! If it hasn't been made clear, I loved our coaches. But here we were, 7 minutes from an undefeated season and our two best all around players, including our unquestioned best on the ball defender, were sitting. This demonstrated two things. First, our coach is a genius. League rules stipulate that every player must sit at least one quarter of each game, unless you don't have enough players to do so. Superstar from the other team had played each of the first three quarters and our coach put our best defender out there each time to guard him. So even though our guy was sitting, so was their guy. (Side note - Coach told me after the game that the opposing team tried to put superstar on the court, but one of our parents called them on it. I also heard that parents from the other team spent the entire 4th quarter complaining that their superstar wasn't allowed to play. Gotta love youth sports.) The other thing this demonstrated was that our coach was not going to let a potential undefeated season change the way he coached the game. He gave everyone equal opportunity to play and coached the same way from the first practice to those excruciating last 7 minutes. I honestly am not sure I would have been able to do that (more on me as a coach in another post.)
Without our two best players, things got a little shaky. However, without their superstar, they couldn't really take advantage of the situation. The 4 point lead remained at about 4 points throughout the 7 minutes and the Ninja Dragons finished their undefeated season.
One week later, the CYA 1st Grade Blue Dragons (don't ask - I have no idea how they ended up with almost identical names) had a chance to complete the undefeated winter for the Earle family. 1st Grade basketball differs slightly from 3rd grade basketball in our rinky-dink local youth league. The Blue Dragons only played 3 games and the referees ability to "swallow their whistles" would embarrass a hockey referee in the 3rd OT of a Game 7. The score is also reset after each quarter. Presumably this is done so no one's feelings get hurt too much by getting blown out. It doesn't work because everyone, particularly the players and their older siblings, keeps track of the aggregate score. Through 2 games, the Blue Dragons were 1-0-1. The first game was a barn burner: 2-0 in the first quarter, 0-0 in the second, 0-2 in the third and 2-2 in the fourth for a 4-4 aggregate score.
The second game was a blow-out. We stopped keeping score by the third quarter because the Blue Dragons were winning by about 20-4 at that point. The first quarter was fairly close, 4-2, the second quarter was less close, 8-2. The third quarter was ugly. The fourth quarter was no better than the third.
The coaches of the Blue Dragons were every bit as commendable as the coaches of the Blue Ninja Dragons. Although, with a group of 1st grade boys all from the same school and all friends, the 1st Grade coaches' patience was tested a little more. They taught the boys basic skills and one play. The one play consisted of the dribbler taking the ball at the top of the key and yelling "One" to signal the one play. Or I could say to signal the "One" play. The remaining four players were in a box around the lane. When the play was called, the player on the right of the dribbler was supposed to set a pick to allow the dribbler to run around him and drive the lane. The play worked about 10% of the time. The biggest problem was the dribbler rarely waited for the pick. He would yell "One" and just start running to his right. My personal favorite was the player who wanted his teammate to set the pick before he called the play. The two players stood there in a pickle, one demanding that a pick be set and the other waiting for the play to be called. Eventually, the dribbler just drove the lane and hurled the ball toward the rim. If you have ever seen a 1st grade basketball game, you understand there is a lot of hurling going on.
For the last two games, the coaches implemented a baseline in-bounds pass play. It looked kind of like the "Picket Fence" of Hoosiers fame and actually worked. The only problem was it took forever to develop and most people thought the boys were just standing around in a line about 5 feet farther away from the baseline than any of them can throw a ball. We ended up with a bunch of parents trying to ruin the play by telling their sons to move closer to the baseline. This was a lot funnier in real life than reading about it.
This brings us to Game 3. The Earle family was 12-0-2 in 2012-13 basketball and looking to complete an undefeated winter. (One other family had boys on both teams and was looking at the same undefeated winter.) Middle woke with a fever that morning, but insisted on playing. We filled him up with Tylenol and water and let him play. The game started well and the Blue Dragons took a 4-0 lead after one. Sadly, their opponents reversed things after 2, and we had a 4-4 aggregate score. Middle was his typical self, excited, running around non-stop and usually not in the right place. But he loves basketball and always has fun. He is also the fastest player on the court and what he lacks in fundamentals, he more than makes up for in enthusiasm. Nobody, and I mean nobody, gets back on defense faster than our son. He didn't score, but he made his mark on the game in other ways. (My boys, the hustle play guys.)
In the third quarter, the Blue Dragons took control again, with an 8-6 run, giving us a 12-10 aggregate lead. The fourth quarter was nerve-racking. At one point, the opponents took a 4 point lead. The Blue Dragons never gave up, though, and fought back to 4-6 with less than a minute to play. The opposition called time-out. I watched the assistant coach, who is the father of the other family going for an undefeated winter, talk to his team as if it was the most important time-out of his life. Let's be honest, it was. After the time-out, the Blue Ninjas ran the "One" play perfectly...and missed the shot. A well fought rebound gave them a second chance and they tied it up 6-6. With only about 20 seconds left and an aggregate 2 point lead, I finally felt comfortable that we would get our undefeated winter. The other team managed a miracle baseline jumper with 5 seconds left to win the quarter 6-8 and finish the game 18-18 aggregate. It was unfortunate that the game ended in a tie, but undefeated...or undefeatable, was accomplished. We celebrated appropriately, then had pizza.
I must admit, the drama of an undefeated winter got to me. I watched that final game with nerves racing through my body. OK, not exactly racing, but it was exciting trying to complete what will almost definitely be our only undefeated basketball winter ever. As a parent, I want my kids to have fun and learn the game. But I am a competitive jack-ass, and as the chances of something special grew, so did my competitiveness. I became a little more vocal and a little more engaged with each win for the Blue Ninja Dragons, and that final game for the Blue Dragons. As much as fun and experience is the goal, it is nice to win every once in a while. It's even nicer to never lose.
2012-13 will always be the season of undefeated, even if not undefeatable.
Things to look forward to:
More on competitiveness
Me as a Coach
My spring coaching soccer
Summer Swimming coming soon
Less than 11 months to Sochi 2014
The first undefeated season came for Eldest. The season started a little rough, with a low-scoring, close opener. A win is a win, though. An early season tie (I said undefeated season, not perfect season) raised some questions about how the season would go. Eventually, though, the Blue Ninja Dragons found their groove and started to play as a team. They had a few close calls as the season progressed. They also showed themselves to be closers, finishing more than one game with dominant fourth quarters to turn a close game into a blow-out or a potential loss into a close win. Each victory (and the one tie) raised the stakes for the season. As the number of games left in the season diminished, the "its all about fun and learning the game" thoughts diminished as well. The pressure was on, at least for the parents. Well, at least for me. The coaches remained as cool as the other side of the pillow (yes, I am stealing from Stu Scott for this).
In all seriousness, the coaches were awesome. I missed a couple games, either playing daddy to Youngest or taking Middle to his practices/games, but saw at least 9 of the 12 games. Of the games I saw, the best player on the court was on the other team for more than half the games. Of the 3 games I missed, the Wife told me the best player on the court was on the other team for at least one of them. The Blue Ninja Dragons were a team though. I give a lot of credit to two fathers who volunteered their time and demonstrated an amazing amount of patience, positive feedback and teaching ability in getting nine 3rd grade boys to play team basketball. The boys learned a ton and won every game by being the better team, even if they were not always the better collection of players.
The last practice was held on a Tuesday night before the final Saturday game. The assistant coach was going to miss the game (for a vacation in Mexico without his kids), but said it was going to kill him to miss that last game. The head coach remained as cool as ever, but admitted he really wanted them to finish their season without a loss. He knew this was a big deal, even if it was a rinky-dink local youth league.
In the first half of the final game, the Blue Ninja Dragons demonstrated their version of team basketball, as always. They were also making shots, which was a rare treat. The offense implemented by the coaches created a ton of chances for the boys, but their shooting percentage was less than desirable. However, in the final game, they came to play. Once again, though, the best player on the floor played for the other team. Early in the game, I was pleased to see that their offense consisted of one player dribbling around for a while, then going baseline before putting up a backwards, over the head, reverse lay-up. I am not kidding, he did this about 5-6 times. The problem is, in a 3rd grade basketball game, someone with his dribbling ability dominates. If this kid had any inclination to pass, or some sort of conscience about putting up ridiculous shots, the Blue Ninja Dragons would not have built up a solid first half lead.
The second half didn't go as well. The Blue Ninja Dragons started to miss a few more shots, and superstar from their opponents started dropping in some of his prayers. Eldest proved his meddle with his typical array of hustle plays, solidly set screens and the first, and only, three point play of the season for the team. I can remember many practices ending with Eldest asking to practice free throws. Free throws were a rare treat in 3rd grade basketball and Eldest had never had the chance to shoot one in a game. Regardless, there he was, week after week, practicing free throws. So, as the lead was slowly decreasing, he got a loose ball in the lane and put it up, the whistle blew and the ball dropped through the net. Count the basket! Foul on the shot. Eldest stepped up and the practice paid off. The free throw bounced softly off the front of the rim and rolled through. Three points!! (Yes, I am bragging about basketball, something I thought I would never be able to do.)
The fourth quarter began with a 4 point lead and the two best all around players on the Ninja Dragons sitting on the bench. WHAT???!!!! If it hasn't been made clear, I loved our coaches. But here we were, 7 minutes from an undefeated season and our two best all around players, including our unquestioned best on the ball defender, were sitting. This demonstrated two things. First, our coach is a genius. League rules stipulate that every player must sit at least one quarter of each game, unless you don't have enough players to do so. Superstar from the other team had played each of the first three quarters and our coach put our best defender out there each time to guard him. So even though our guy was sitting, so was their guy. (Side note - Coach told me after the game that the opposing team tried to put superstar on the court, but one of our parents called them on it. I also heard that parents from the other team spent the entire 4th quarter complaining that their superstar wasn't allowed to play. Gotta love youth sports.) The other thing this demonstrated was that our coach was not going to let a potential undefeated season change the way he coached the game. He gave everyone equal opportunity to play and coached the same way from the first practice to those excruciating last 7 minutes. I honestly am not sure I would have been able to do that (more on me as a coach in another post.)
Without our two best players, things got a little shaky. However, without their superstar, they couldn't really take advantage of the situation. The 4 point lead remained at about 4 points throughout the 7 minutes and the Ninja Dragons finished their undefeated season.
One week later, the CYA 1st Grade Blue Dragons (don't ask - I have no idea how they ended up with almost identical names) had a chance to complete the undefeated winter for the Earle family. 1st Grade basketball differs slightly from 3rd grade basketball in our rinky-dink local youth league. The Blue Dragons only played 3 games and the referees ability to "swallow their whistles" would embarrass a hockey referee in the 3rd OT of a Game 7. The score is also reset after each quarter. Presumably this is done so no one's feelings get hurt too much by getting blown out. It doesn't work because everyone, particularly the players and their older siblings, keeps track of the aggregate score. Through 2 games, the Blue Dragons were 1-0-1. The first game was a barn burner: 2-0 in the first quarter, 0-0 in the second, 0-2 in the third and 2-2 in the fourth for a 4-4 aggregate score.
The second game was a blow-out. We stopped keeping score by the third quarter because the Blue Dragons were winning by about 20-4 at that point. The first quarter was fairly close, 4-2, the second quarter was less close, 8-2. The third quarter was ugly. The fourth quarter was no better than the third.
The coaches of the Blue Dragons were every bit as commendable as the coaches of the Blue Ninja Dragons. Although, with a group of 1st grade boys all from the same school and all friends, the 1st Grade coaches' patience was tested a little more. They taught the boys basic skills and one play. The one play consisted of the dribbler taking the ball at the top of the key and yelling "One" to signal the one play. Or I could say to signal the "One" play. The remaining four players were in a box around the lane. When the play was called, the player on the right of the dribbler was supposed to set a pick to allow the dribbler to run around him and drive the lane. The play worked about 10% of the time. The biggest problem was the dribbler rarely waited for the pick. He would yell "One" and just start running to his right. My personal favorite was the player who wanted his teammate to set the pick before he called the play. The two players stood there in a pickle, one demanding that a pick be set and the other waiting for the play to be called. Eventually, the dribbler just drove the lane and hurled the ball toward the rim. If you have ever seen a 1st grade basketball game, you understand there is a lot of hurling going on.
For the last two games, the coaches implemented a baseline in-bounds pass play. It looked kind of like the "Picket Fence" of Hoosiers fame and actually worked. The only problem was it took forever to develop and most people thought the boys were just standing around in a line about 5 feet farther away from the baseline than any of them can throw a ball. We ended up with a bunch of parents trying to ruin the play by telling their sons to move closer to the baseline. This was a lot funnier in real life than reading about it.
This brings us to Game 3. The Earle family was 12-0-2 in 2012-13 basketball and looking to complete an undefeated winter. (One other family had boys on both teams and was looking at the same undefeated winter.) Middle woke with a fever that morning, but insisted on playing. We filled him up with Tylenol and water and let him play. The game started well and the Blue Dragons took a 4-0 lead after one. Sadly, their opponents reversed things after 2, and we had a 4-4 aggregate score. Middle was his typical self, excited, running around non-stop and usually not in the right place. But he loves basketball and always has fun. He is also the fastest player on the court and what he lacks in fundamentals, he more than makes up for in enthusiasm. Nobody, and I mean nobody, gets back on defense faster than our son. He didn't score, but he made his mark on the game in other ways. (My boys, the hustle play guys.)
In the third quarter, the Blue Dragons took control again, with an 8-6 run, giving us a 12-10 aggregate lead. The fourth quarter was nerve-racking. At one point, the opponents took a 4 point lead. The Blue Dragons never gave up, though, and fought back to 4-6 with less than a minute to play. The opposition called time-out. I watched the assistant coach, who is the father of the other family going for an undefeated winter, talk to his team as if it was the most important time-out of his life. Let's be honest, it was. After the time-out, the Blue Ninjas ran the "One" play perfectly...and missed the shot. A well fought rebound gave them a second chance and they tied it up 6-6. With only about 20 seconds left and an aggregate 2 point lead, I finally felt comfortable that we would get our undefeated winter. The other team managed a miracle baseline jumper with 5 seconds left to win the quarter 6-8 and finish the game 18-18 aggregate. It was unfortunate that the game ended in a tie, but undefeated...or undefeatable, was accomplished. We celebrated appropriately, then had pizza.
I must admit, the drama of an undefeated winter got to me. I watched that final game with nerves racing through my body. OK, not exactly racing, but it was exciting trying to complete what will almost definitely be our only undefeated basketball winter ever. As a parent, I want my kids to have fun and learn the game. But I am a competitive jack-ass, and as the chances of something special grew, so did my competitiveness. I became a little more vocal and a little more engaged with each win for the Blue Ninja Dragons, and that final game for the Blue Dragons. As much as fun and experience is the goal, it is nice to win every once in a while. It's even nicer to never lose.
2012-13 will always be the season of undefeated, even if not undefeatable.
Things to look forward to:
More on competitiveness
Me as a Coach
My spring coaching soccer
Summer Swimming coming soon
Less than 11 months to Sochi 2014
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Less Than One Year
The countdown continues. We now have 364 days* until the opening ceremonies of Sochi 2014. I have much to do to make you fully informed viewers and now have less than one year in which to do it. I also need to come up with less vague ways of filling space.
We have a few things to cover today, but let's begin with the next Olympics. For those of you that followed me during London, 2012, you know my fondness for the Olympics is not limited to the summer games. In some ways (i.e., in the ways that don't include swimming, Alex Morgan, women volleyball players or long track races), I prefer the Winter Olympics. I like to learn new things and develop odd fondnesses for obscure sports. Seven years ago, I discovered curling and fell in love with biathlon. The only problem with curling is the television coverage often doesn't show you the whole round. They only show the last couple of stones. I want to develop a better feel for the strategy of the game. I am hoping to do so in 2014.
Biathlon is simply awesome. Ski until you almost die, then shoot, then ski again. I love the races where a missed shot results in a penalty lap, not just time deduction. The look on the racers' faces when they finish and have to go to the penalty lap area says it all. They are tired enough and they know this will cost them in effort and time. In most of the races I have seen, everyone misses eventually, so when you miss is often as important as how often. Regardless, I just find it enjoyable to watch.
Three years ago, I discovered and fell in love with Nordic Combined. Nordic Combined combines the two nordic ski competitions. (Funny how that works with the name, huh?) At some point in the next 364 days I will research what a Nordic Ski Competition is and give a history for you. Now, since I have 364 days, I shall focus on the bigger issues. As far as Nordic Combined, the bigger issue is whether the US can even approach their historic success of 2010. Prior to 2010, the US had never won an Olympic medal of any color in Nordic Combined. In 2010, we DOMINATED. (That all caps was brought to you by my Volleyball Insider.) The US won four total medals out of nine available medals, including silver in the Team Competition and gold and silver (and 4th) in the Large Hill competition. The names Johnny Spillane, Bill Demong and Todd Lodwick will always have a special place in my Winter Olympics heart.
Three years ago my two oldest boys fell in love with biathlon. This isn't surprising. What could be more fun for two young boys growing up in the snow-starved mid-Atlantic region of the US than imagining a competition that involves skiing and shooting guns. (Yes, I know, the 2010 Winter Olympics happened during the historic 2009-2010 winter so we weren't snow-starved then. Don't let facts get in the way of my "no snow" whining.) Really, though, I think the snow helped, because my boys could actually imagine that biathlon was something they could do. Why not? There was 2 feet of snow outside on three different occassions. I have pictures of the two of them practicing biathlon shooting with Star Wars Nerf guns in prone and standing position. In a couple of the pictures, you can see the Olympic biathlon competition on the television in the background.
Now, we can look forward to Sochi. There are a few problems, but for now I will focus on just one. Sochi isn't exactly a winter wonderland. Jim Caple, of ESPN.com, visited Sochi and wrote about his experience. Among other things, he spent the majority of his time dressed for a summer vacation, not the Winter Olympics. According to Weather.com's 10 day forecast (that link is useless because you aren't looking at it at the same time as I am, but it can be used to get a general feel for Sochi's weather) in the 10 day period from February 12, 2013-February 21, 2013*, the high temperature averages at about 50, the low about 40, and it never goes below freezing. On Valentine's Day, temperatures are expected to reach 60. This is not the stuff a great biathlon course is made of.
(Caple also discusses some of the traffic and human rights issues, which we may touch on later in the year.)
The weather concerns were not a big surprise to my Baltic States Insider, who informed me of Sochi's primary purpose upon Russia being awarded the 2014 games. Sochi is a summer resort city on the Black Sea. The next time the US goes for the winter games, perhaps Myrtle Beach should put in a bid. Seriously though, Sochi is kind of close to the Caucasus mountains, which is where the skiing will be held. Of course, they aren't getting any snow in the mountains right now and traffic is a bear. Start praying for snow in Sochi, we have less than a year for the olympic gods and snow gods to agree that the snow problems in Vancouver didn't help the experience and give us a better show. Unless they decide Putin doesn't deserve a better show and they go out of their way to ruin things for him. There is justice in that, but I want to see a fast downhill, the Flying Tomato and Nordic Combined. So I am praying for snow...in Sochi and Chantilly.
In other Olympic news, wrestling has been dropped from the summer games' core 25 sports. Wrestling has been contested at every Olympic Games except Paris in 1900. I am not exactly a fan of wrestling. I have, as far as I can remember, never attended a wrestling meet. I have never really watched wrestling in Olympic competition. If you asked me to list my favorite sports, for any purpose - to watch on television, to watch live, to listen to on the radio, to participate in for competition, to participate in for fun, or anything else you can think of - I can't imagine wrestling makes it into the top 25, regardless of the category. But this feels wrong. Wrestling is a classic olympic sport. It should be contested at the Olympics. If it is not contested at the Olympics, where will it be contested? It is already one of the most victimized casualties of Title IX, in my unresearched observation. (This website, showing the 281 or so college wrestling programs that have been discontinued since 1972 certainly supports my unresearched observation.) Without the olympics, wrestling is on its way to extinction.
Of course the article says TV ratings and ticket sales are part of the reason it has been dropped. So, I guess, in some small way, my ambivalence played a role in this. Well, mine plus about 100 million other people who don't care about wrestling. It still feels wrong. I don't know why I care now. I'm not going to watch in 2016. Maybe wrestling is the pinky toe of Olympic sports. You never think about it (unless you stub it), but you'll notice when its gone.
I planned to get into some other subjects, but the wrestling story sidetracked me. By the way, the * above is there to indicate that this post was started on February 8, 2013, but not finished until February 12, 2013.
Things to look forward to:
Choosing Spring Sports for my boys
Fat Old Man Update
Winter Sports Review
SI Swimsuit Issue in mailboxes this week
We have a few things to cover today, but let's begin with the next Olympics. For those of you that followed me during London, 2012, you know my fondness for the Olympics is not limited to the summer games. In some ways (i.e., in the ways that don't include swimming, Alex Morgan, women volleyball players or long track races), I prefer the Winter Olympics. I like to learn new things and develop odd fondnesses for obscure sports. Seven years ago, I discovered curling and fell in love with biathlon. The only problem with curling is the television coverage often doesn't show you the whole round. They only show the last couple of stones. I want to develop a better feel for the strategy of the game. I am hoping to do so in 2014.
Biathlon is simply awesome. Ski until you almost die, then shoot, then ski again. I love the races where a missed shot results in a penalty lap, not just time deduction. The look on the racers' faces when they finish and have to go to the penalty lap area says it all. They are tired enough and they know this will cost them in effort and time. In most of the races I have seen, everyone misses eventually, so when you miss is often as important as how often. Regardless, I just find it enjoyable to watch.
Three years ago, I discovered and fell in love with Nordic Combined. Nordic Combined combines the two nordic ski competitions. (Funny how that works with the name, huh?) At some point in the next 364 days I will research what a Nordic Ski Competition is and give a history for you. Now, since I have 364 days, I shall focus on the bigger issues. As far as Nordic Combined, the bigger issue is whether the US can even approach their historic success of 2010. Prior to 2010, the US had never won an Olympic medal of any color in Nordic Combined. In 2010, we DOMINATED. (That all caps was brought to you by my Volleyball Insider.) The US won four total medals out of nine available medals, including silver in the Team Competition and gold and silver (and 4th) in the Large Hill competition. The names Johnny Spillane, Bill Demong and Todd Lodwick will always have a special place in my Winter Olympics heart.
Three years ago my two oldest boys fell in love with biathlon. This isn't surprising. What could be more fun for two young boys growing up in the snow-starved mid-Atlantic region of the US than imagining a competition that involves skiing and shooting guns. (Yes, I know, the 2010 Winter Olympics happened during the historic 2009-2010 winter so we weren't snow-starved then. Don't let facts get in the way of my "no snow" whining.) Really, though, I think the snow helped, because my boys could actually imagine that biathlon was something they could do. Why not? There was 2 feet of snow outside on three different occassions. I have pictures of the two of them practicing biathlon shooting with Star Wars Nerf guns in prone and standing position. In a couple of the pictures, you can see the Olympic biathlon competition on the television in the background.
Now, we can look forward to Sochi. There are a few problems, but for now I will focus on just one. Sochi isn't exactly a winter wonderland. Jim Caple, of ESPN.com, visited Sochi and wrote about his experience. Among other things, he spent the majority of his time dressed for a summer vacation, not the Winter Olympics. According to Weather.com's 10 day forecast (that link is useless because you aren't looking at it at the same time as I am, but it can be used to get a general feel for Sochi's weather) in the 10 day period from February 12, 2013-February 21, 2013*, the high temperature averages at about 50, the low about 40, and it never goes below freezing. On Valentine's Day, temperatures are expected to reach 60. This is not the stuff a great biathlon course is made of.
(Caple also discusses some of the traffic and human rights issues, which we may touch on later in the year.)
The weather concerns were not a big surprise to my Baltic States Insider, who informed me of Sochi's primary purpose upon Russia being awarded the 2014 games. Sochi is a summer resort city on the Black Sea. The next time the US goes for the winter games, perhaps Myrtle Beach should put in a bid. Seriously though, Sochi is kind of close to the Caucasus mountains, which is where the skiing will be held. Of course, they aren't getting any snow in the mountains right now and traffic is a bear. Start praying for snow in Sochi, we have less than a year for the olympic gods and snow gods to agree that the snow problems in Vancouver didn't help the experience and give us a better show. Unless they decide Putin doesn't deserve a better show and they go out of their way to ruin things for him. There is justice in that, but I want to see a fast downhill, the Flying Tomato and Nordic Combined. So I am praying for snow...in Sochi and Chantilly.
In other Olympic news, wrestling has been dropped from the summer games' core 25 sports. Wrestling has been contested at every Olympic Games except Paris in 1900. I am not exactly a fan of wrestling. I have, as far as I can remember, never attended a wrestling meet. I have never really watched wrestling in Olympic competition. If you asked me to list my favorite sports, for any purpose - to watch on television, to watch live, to listen to on the radio, to participate in for competition, to participate in for fun, or anything else you can think of - I can't imagine wrestling makes it into the top 25, regardless of the category. But this feels wrong. Wrestling is a classic olympic sport. It should be contested at the Olympics. If it is not contested at the Olympics, where will it be contested? It is already one of the most victimized casualties of Title IX, in my unresearched observation. (This website, showing the 281 or so college wrestling programs that have been discontinued since 1972 certainly supports my unresearched observation.) Without the olympics, wrestling is on its way to extinction.
Of course the article says TV ratings and ticket sales are part of the reason it has been dropped. So, I guess, in some small way, my ambivalence played a role in this. Well, mine plus about 100 million other people who don't care about wrestling. It still feels wrong. I don't know why I care now. I'm not going to watch in 2016. Maybe wrestling is the pinky toe of Olympic sports. You never think about it (unless you stub it), but you'll notice when its gone.
I planned to get into some other subjects, but the wrestling story sidetracked me. By the way, the * above is there to indicate that this post was started on February 8, 2013, but not finished until February 12, 2013.
Things to look forward to:
Choosing Spring Sports for my boys
Fat Old Man Update
Winter Sports Review
SI Swimsuit Issue in mailboxes this week
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Oh Where, Oh Where Can My Winter Be?
The Lord took Her away from me.
Two years ago, we had the craziest winter these here parts (DC Metropolitan Area) have seen in a long time. (If not ever, but I don't care enough to look up whether it was the craziest winter in recorded history.)
Two days ago, we had our first of two consecutive 70 degree days in January.
Last year was the warmest winter on record in DC.
Yesterday was the warmest January 30 on record at Dulles airport.
We are currently in the longest stretch of time between snow falls of at least 2 inches in recorded history, with no mention of breaking said streak in the extended forecast I have seen.
Mother Nature, what have we done to spite you?
Jack Frost, where have you gone?
My favorite season is spring. I love cool mornings and evenings and pleasant, sunny days. I love sweatshirt and shorts weather. Anyone who knows me knows I will wear a sweatshirt and shorts in any weather, until it is warm enough to take the sweatshirt off, but I am talking about spring, when people don't look at me funny because I am wearing shorts. I had a friend who once said people are like bugs, they all go outside when the weather gets nice. This is true, especially in my neighborhood. When spring hits whole families emerge from their winter hibernation. The playgrounds are full. The streets are more dangerous, with kids on bicycles, scooters and foot going along and across at various speeds and intervals. It is the renewal of life. Everything looks better, smells better and feels better, because Mother Nature is warm and sunny and renewed. Spring is the best.
I still want winter. I am sure most people have heard San Diego residents sarcastically comment on people who like "seasons." People who don't live in San Diego say they couldn't live in San Diego because they like seasons. People who live in San Diego sarcastically claim they understand, because who would want to live in a place that is sunny and 70 every day. I see both sides of the argument. If I lived in San Diego, I don't think I would miss winter. San Diego is close to ideal weather for me. Last time I was there, I wore shorts and a t-shirt, until it got chilly in the evening and I put on a sweatshirt. I don't, however, live in San Diego. So I want the weather that comes with my geographic location, and that includes winter.
During the three ridiculous snowstorm winter of 2009-2010, I told the Wife that our kids, especially Eldest, were going to develop a warped idea of what winter is. Almost 2 feet of snow is a once every 6-8 years phenomenon in DC, not three times in a season. Our kids had a blast with those snowstorms. When I shoveled our driveway, I created 8-10 foot mounds on either side. The kids turned these into slides, complete with steps up to the top. They created an igloo-like shelter near the mailbox, where even I could go to get away from the wind and the cold. We had massive snowball fights, with giant walls and defenses on either side of the driveway. Then we went inside for hot chocolate with marshmallows. Winter was good.
Since that winter...nothing. Last winter, I sadly watched Middle son try to make a snow angel in the barely white mixed winter precipitation we got at some point. It was the saddest thing I have ever witnessed in mixed winter precipitation. This year, in the 3/4 of an inch snowfall we got over the past weekend, he asked me to have a snowball fight. Each scoop of the barely there snow created a snowball that was 2/3 snow and 1/3 leaves. Ignoring for the moment what this says about my failure to rake this fall, it was another reminder that a boy who wants to love snow becomes a sad, sad sight when Jack Frost doesn't cooperate.
That is why I want winter. I am not a snow nut. I didn't grow up in Minnesota or Maine or Canada and have some demented need for really cold weather. I don't relish spending hours with a snow shovel to clear my driveway which, frankly, isn't that long. I just want my children to have some snow to play in from time to time. Especially Middle, who seems to be craving a real snowfall. Several years ago, after an unxpected 12 inches of snow, I heard on the news that the DC area gets a 10 inch snowfall on average every 3 years. That works for me. My concern is that 2009-10 is filling the average and we won't have another one for 7 more years. We are on the brink of two straight winters without even 2 inches. I just want a good 6-8 inches. Enough for my boys to get snowy and cold and deserve that hot chocolate and marshmallows. Plus a 2 footer every 3-4 years. Is that too much to ask for, Jack Frost?
Tonight they are predicting another tease. Snow showers resulting in a dusting. In fact, the extended forecast has snow predicted for four straight days. Expected accumulation is a dusting to a half inch. This is merely a recipe for more sad images of a 6 year old trying to squeeze a whole lemon's worth of snow fun out of a lemon seed. At least they may get a two hour delayed opening from school.
Things to Look Forward to:
1. Choosing sports for your kids, based on a discussion with friends.
2. Update on winter sports.
3. Renewed dedication to this blog.
4. SI Swimsuit issue coming out, so I don't need to promise pictures of mostly naked women.
5. Sometime before this summer I will give a full recap of last summer.
6. 372 days until Sochi 2014.
Fat Old Man Update:
I have not been consistent, but at least I am consistently inconsistent. Eventually, I tend to fall into an inertia created 2 month break from any serious exercise, which I have avoided. Holidays, illness, laziness and the busy life of a suburban dad have created occassional 2 week breaks, but nothing more than that. I had lunch with my old (I meant former, really, former) coach today who suggested I wear fins when swimming, at least some of the time. We agreed that I am a snob who will resist such an act, but maybe I should invest in some. If nothing else, it will boost my ego by making me feel faster. At this point, my goal is to keep it up on a somewhat regular basis until the summer, when hopefully I can commit to more time.
Two years ago, we had the craziest winter these here parts (DC Metropolitan Area) have seen in a long time. (If not ever, but I don't care enough to look up whether it was the craziest winter in recorded history.)
Two days ago, we had our first of two consecutive 70 degree days in January.
Last year was the warmest winter on record in DC.
Yesterday was the warmest January 30 on record at Dulles airport.
We are currently in the longest stretch of time between snow falls of at least 2 inches in recorded history, with no mention of breaking said streak in the extended forecast I have seen.
Mother Nature, what have we done to spite you?
Jack Frost, where have you gone?
My favorite season is spring. I love cool mornings and evenings and pleasant, sunny days. I love sweatshirt and shorts weather. Anyone who knows me knows I will wear a sweatshirt and shorts in any weather, until it is warm enough to take the sweatshirt off, but I am talking about spring, when people don't look at me funny because I am wearing shorts. I had a friend who once said people are like bugs, they all go outside when the weather gets nice. This is true, especially in my neighborhood. When spring hits whole families emerge from their winter hibernation. The playgrounds are full. The streets are more dangerous, with kids on bicycles, scooters and foot going along and across at various speeds and intervals. It is the renewal of life. Everything looks better, smells better and feels better, because Mother Nature is warm and sunny and renewed. Spring is the best.
I still want winter. I am sure most people have heard San Diego residents sarcastically comment on people who like "seasons." People who don't live in San Diego say they couldn't live in San Diego because they like seasons. People who live in San Diego sarcastically claim they understand, because who would want to live in a place that is sunny and 70 every day. I see both sides of the argument. If I lived in San Diego, I don't think I would miss winter. San Diego is close to ideal weather for me. Last time I was there, I wore shorts and a t-shirt, until it got chilly in the evening and I put on a sweatshirt. I don't, however, live in San Diego. So I want the weather that comes with my geographic location, and that includes winter.
During the three ridiculous snowstorm winter of 2009-2010, I told the Wife that our kids, especially Eldest, were going to develop a warped idea of what winter is. Almost 2 feet of snow is a once every 6-8 years phenomenon in DC, not three times in a season. Our kids had a blast with those snowstorms. When I shoveled our driveway, I created 8-10 foot mounds on either side. The kids turned these into slides, complete with steps up to the top. They created an igloo-like shelter near the mailbox, where even I could go to get away from the wind and the cold. We had massive snowball fights, with giant walls and defenses on either side of the driveway. Then we went inside for hot chocolate with marshmallows. Winter was good.
Since that winter...nothing. Last winter, I sadly watched Middle son try to make a snow angel in the barely white mixed winter precipitation we got at some point. It was the saddest thing I have ever witnessed in mixed winter precipitation. This year, in the 3/4 of an inch snowfall we got over the past weekend, he asked me to have a snowball fight. Each scoop of the barely there snow created a snowball that was 2/3 snow and 1/3 leaves. Ignoring for the moment what this says about my failure to rake this fall, it was another reminder that a boy who wants to love snow becomes a sad, sad sight when Jack Frost doesn't cooperate.
That is why I want winter. I am not a snow nut. I didn't grow up in Minnesota or Maine or Canada and have some demented need for really cold weather. I don't relish spending hours with a snow shovel to clear my driveway which, frankly, isn't that long. I just want my children to have some snow to play in from time to time. Especially Middle, who seems to be craving a real snowfall. Several years ago, after an unxpected 12 inches of snow, I heard on the news that the DC area gets a 10 inch snowfall on average every 3 years. That works for me. My concern is that 2009-10 is filling the average and we won't have another one for 7 more years. We are on the brink of two straight winters without even 2 inches. I just want a good 6-8 inches. Enough for my boys to get snowy and cold and deserve that hot chocolate and marshmallows. Plus a 2 footer every 3-4 years. Is that too much to ask for, Jack Frost?
Tonight they are predicting another tease. Snow showers resulting in a dusting. In fact, the extended forecast has snow predicted for four straight days. Expected accumulation is a dusting to a half inch. This is merely a recipe for more sad images of a 6 year old trying to squeeze a whole lemon's worth of snow fun out of a lemon seed. At least they may get a two hour delayed opening from school.
Things to Look Forward to:
1. Choosing sports for your kids, based on a discussion with friends.
2. Update on winter sports.
3. Renewed dedication to this blog.
4. SI Swimsuit issue coming out, so I don't need to promise pictures of mostly naked women.
5. Sometime before this summer I will give a full recap of last summer.
6. 372 days until Sochi 2014.
Fat Old Man Update:
I have not been consistent, but at least I am consistently inconsistent. Eventually, I tend to fall into an inertia created 2 month break from any serious exercise, which I have avoided. Holidays, illness, laziness and the busy life of a suburban dad have created occassional 2 week breaks, but nothing more than that. I had lunch with my old (I meant former, really, former) coach today who suggested I wear fins when swimming, at least some of the time. We agreed that I am a snob who will resist such an act, but maybe I should invest in some. If nothing else, it will boost my ego by making me feel faster. At this point, my goal is to keep it up on a somewhat regular basis until the summer, when hopefully I can commit to more time.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Christmas Hangover
Christmas Eve is a magical night, devised for the purpose of torturing excited children. I have always believed this, to a certain extent, based in large part on the memory of my own torure as an excited young boy. I learned something new this year. Torture is much easier to handle if you have at least another week off from school than if you have to go to work on December 26. I hope your Christmas Eve was wonderful. Let me tell you about mine.
After spending the day on a wild goose chase for a camera that was sold out of multiple Targets, I finally got home to help the Wife prepare Christmas Eve dinner for my whole family, fourteen people after two had to bail due to the flu. We managed to expertly spread the work out over the full three day weekend, so we were in good shape on Christmas Eve afternoon as we took care of the final touches. The "Polish" themed Christmas Dinner the Wife has introduced to my family (pierogies, kielbasa and shrimp) was as good as ever, and Christmas Eve started off swimmingly. By 7:45, Youngest told his mother he wanted to go to bed and she put him down without incident. We let the two older ones spend a little more time playing with their cousin before everyone left and we got them ready for bed. The excitement level was high, and they were in good spirits. Milk and cookies were put out, PJs were put on and everything looked good at 8:30 when we told them they could play together for a half hour before lights out. I had some last minute wrapping to take care of, so the half hour was well spent. Lights went out without a problem, even though Youngest woke and wouldn't go to bed again until he could sing to his older brothers. Then the bottom dropped out.
At 10:00 we wanted to put presents under the tree, but Eldest was still awake. We waited a little while, then decided just to take care of it despite the potential for getting caught. We were in bed, ready for dreamland by 11:30. I was awakened at 2:30, by Eldest, who couldn't sleep. I had trouble falling back to sleep but did manage until 4, when Eldest and Middle decided to turn lights on and play together. I told them that wouldn't work until 6. Between 4 and 6, Middle came to see me 4 times to tell me, among other things, that he was "dying" because he couldn't play with his brother. I slept, not a wink, during those two hours. At 6, I let them get together and reminded them that presents didn't start until 7. I had to tell them 3 times to quiet down so the Wife and Youngest could sleep. I slept, not a wink, during that hour. At 7, chaos ensued.
I enjoy the chaos. I enjoy the excitement. I even enjoy the torture a little. I did not enjoy the lack of sleep. We did Christmas morning in my house, Christmas afternoon and dinner at my sister-in-law's, about a 90 minute drive away. We returned home for bed Christmas night. I felt like a zombie most of the day and took several days to recover. A bad night of sleep on Christmas Eve is fine when you have nothing to do for the next week, it becomes torture for the adults when they have to go back to work.
Christmas is a wonderful holiday. I am convinced the only thing better than being a parent of young children on Christmas morning is being a young child on Christmas morning. Even better for the child is more than a week off from school. This is definitely the kicker for the Christmas season. The children get their day, then their week to recover and enjoy. As a parent, I had to go to work the next day and the day after that and the day after that. Christmas seems like less a season than a blip. I can handle the build up, the shopping, the decorating, the wrapping, the cleaning the house and the preparation for dinner. I struggle with the aftermath. I struggled this year with a really bad night of sleep. I struggled with the clean up, the taking down of decorations, and the getting the house back in order. To make matters worse, this year I got the Plague about 4 days after Christmas. Well, maybe not really, but it felt like it. That would explain why this post was finished several days after New Years, instead of several days before.
Ultimately, though, that week after Christmas is worth it, because of the joy my boys get during the build up and the excitement of the week off from school after Christmas. A week they spent playing with new toys and wonderful babysitters. I just hope to avoid the Plague next year.
Here's wishing you a very Happy New Year, with fun and happiness, and perhaps a few Observations from a Suburban Sports Dad.
After spending the day on a wild goose chase for a camera that was sold out of multiple Targets, I finally got home to help the Wife prepare Christmas Eve dinner for my whole family, fourteen people after two had to bail due to the flu. We managed to expertly spread the work out over the full three day weekend, so we were in good shape on Christmas Eve afternoon as we took care of the final touches. The "Polish" themed Christmas Dinner the Wife has introduced to my family (pierogies, kielbasa and shrimp) was as good as ever, and Christmas Eve started off swimmingly. By 7:45, Youngest told his mother he wanted to go to bed and she put him down without incident. We let the two older ones spend a little more time playing with their cousin before everyone left and we got them ready for bed. The excitement level was high, and they were in good spirits. Milk and cookies were put out, PJs were put on and everything looked good at 8:30 when we told them they could play together for a half hour before lights out. I had some last minute wrapping to take care of, so the half hour was well spent. Lights went out without a problem, even though Youngest woke and wouldn't go to bed again until he could sing to his older brothers. Then the bottom dropped out.
At 10:00 we wanted to put presents under the tree, but Eldest was still awake. We waited a little while, then decided just to take care of it despite the potential for getting caught. We were in bed, ready for dreamland by 11:30. I was awakened at 2:30, by Eldest, who couldn't sleep. I had trouble falling back to sleep but did manage until 4, when Eldest and Middle decided to turn lights on and play together. I told them that wouldn't work until 6. Between 4 and 6, Middle came to see me 4 times to tell me, among other things, that he was "dying" because he couldn't play with his brother. I slept, not a wink, during those two hours. At 6, I let them get together and reminded them that presents didn't start until 7. I had to tell them 3 times to quiet down so the Wife and Youngest could sleep. I slept, not a wink, during that hour. At 7, chaos ensued.
I enjoy the chaos. I enjoy the excitement. I even enjoy the torture a little. I did not enjoy the lack of sleep. We did Christmas morning in my house, Christmas afternoon and dinner at my sister-in-law's, about a 90 minute drive away. We returned home for bed Christmas night. I felt like a zombie most of the day and took several days to recover. A bad night of sleep on Christmas Eve is fine when you have nothing to do for the next week, it becomes torture for the adults when they have to go back to work.
Christmas is a wonderful holiday. I am convinced the only thing better than being a parent of young children on Christmas morning is being a young child on Christmas morning. Even better for the child is more than a week off from school. This is definitely the kicker for the Christmas season. The children get their day, then their week to recover and enjoy. As a parent, I had to go to work the next day and the day after that and the day after that. Christmas seems like less a season than a blip. I can handle the build up, the shopping, the decorating, the wrapping, the cleaning the house and the preparation for dinner. I struggle with the aftermath. I struggled this year with a really bad night of sleep. I struggled with the clean up, the taking down of decorations, and the getting the house back in order. To make matters worse, this year I got the Plague about 4 days after Christmas. Well, maybe not really, but it felt like it. That would explain why this post was finished several days after New Years, instead of several days before.
Ultimately, though, that week after Christmas is worth it, because of the joy my boys get during the build up and the excitement of the week off from school after Christmas. A week they spent playing with new toys and wonderful babysitters. I just hope to avoid the Plague next year.
Here's wishing you a very Happy New Year, with fun and happiness, and perhaps a few Observations from a Suburban Sports Dad.
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