Thursday, January 15, 2009

It's in the blood....we're Hoosiers

My older daughter decided that she would play on the school's basketball team this season. She attends a small private Montessori school with a little over one hundred students total so everyone who chooses to play gets to play. The team is co-ed and they play in a conference against other Montessori based schools.

This is, for me, quite exciting. I mean I'm a Hoosier. I grew up playing basketball in my driveway. I can twirl a basketball on my pointer finger and shoot free throws with my eyes closed. Okay, maybe that last part isn't quite accurate, but I did win the local free throw shooting contest at the University of Evansville. So, when Madison announced she wanted to play basketball I was thrilled.

I loved basketball growing up. I loved to watch it. I loved going to games. I loved playing the game in my backyard with the neighborhood kids. I didn't, however, want to play it in school. My parents did want me to do that so I tried out for the team in grade school. I didn't make it, but this wasn't surprising considering the same kids played on all the teams each year. In high school, I made the JV team and played my freshman and sophomore year. I was a bench warmer who prayed that we didn't get too far ahead in the game that I might actually have to go in. By the time my junior year rolled around, I think my parents knew forcing me to continue would only bring heartache for all of us so I was allowed to drop school basketball. I did, however, continue playing in the driveway, thus perfecting my free throw shot which led to my title.

Madison has never played basketball. I have pictures of her at about one year of age dribbling a basketball in that Indiana driveway, but I can't really count that. I sent her off to practice and stayed away so that I wouldn't be tempted to offer up any paternal advice. This worked well for the first week. The second-week practice ran later and I ended up on the bleachers watching. I think I probably made it ten minutes before I was on my feet offering the team helpful b-ball advice. The next day I was helping with warm-ups. This week I'm one of the assistant coaches.


I'm having a great time. Madison is actually a fairly decent player. She is a thinker so she takes the ins and the outs of the game and applies it to her performance. She enjoys practicing and she is quite accepting of my teachings. She isn't a bad shot either. She needs some free throw work, but hello, think I've got that one covered.


I too am getting back into the game. Helping to coach puts me back on the court, and after I shook off the rust it all came rushing back to me. I'm rebounding and doing layups. I'm in with these kids during the drills passing and running. I'm on the sidelines watching and analyzing. I'm in there demonstrating, sometimes pulling a kid around by the arm putting her in the right place, helping her to jump. I think I'm one of those sports people who can't play well, but who can coach. I love it. Not only have I gotten back to my roots, but I'm sharing it with my daughter. And there isn't anything better than that.....

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