A lot of things changed when I became a parent. I mean, let’s face it, sleep has been merely an option for the last six years, bathroom trips alone barely exist, my plate has become a community platter, and while it bounces differently these days, my body sure never did bounce back.
Yet, there was one thing that I brought from my childhood that I thought would always remain untouched: basketball.
To this day, just walking through the doors of a gym brings on the smell of the competitive mix of sweat and tears that were poured into daily workouts and practices. Even if the place is empty, I can hear the squeaking of shoes jabbing and cutting on the gym floor, and I can almost feel the roar of the crowd creep through my body as a tough shot was finished, an impossible pass was made or a charge was taken.
Without a shadow of doubt, I was sure that nothing could take those feelings away from me. That is, until I started coaching my kids and their 4- to 6-year-old peers.
Now, I smell boredom. Focusing on a drill that lasts more than 10 seconds is impossible — in fact, just waiting in line until it is their turn is like torture. Most of our discussions between quarters is about who gets to sit out next and what kind of candy is at the concession stand. No! You want to be on the floor, not taking a break. And even if GG offers, you cannot go get popcorn in the middle of the game regardless if you are out that quarter.
Yes, I realize we are teaching them the fundamentals and they are young, but it still makes me cringe when we cheer for a kid who made a basket when he just took 12 steps without dribbling to get there. And come on, that was definitely out of bounds. We can’t just play it — it bounced off a spectator’s foot.
No stealing, no pressing, no score keeping, and yes, she just dribbled with two hands, picked it up and started dribbling again. No call. And can we please pass the ball? You shot the last 17 times down the floor. Pass it!
Oh, and let’s not forget about my daughter — yes, my own child — who disappeared during practice sending several of us parents on a 5-minute rampage looking for her. She was hiding in the corner under a stack of chairs. Why? Because she thought it was funny. I guess that beats her normal stance of hanging onto my leg as I walk up and down the court attempting to instill some sort of knowledge of the game into these young kids’ minds.
“Play some ‘D’.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know what ‘D’ is.”
Surely, I have failed. This. Is. Not. Basketball.
But then, I see a kid cut away from the ball and back to it getting open for a pass. Hey, I taught them that! Did you see that one fill in behind after his teammate drove to the basket for the easy kick out? Yes! Look at that rebound and put back! We worked on that as well.
And my Maylie, my precious little passive princess, she just dove on the floor for a ball! Yeah, she may have proceeded to get up, walk a few steps, double dribble and throw the ball to the other team, but did you see that initial hustle move?
“Wait, Reag-”. Well, nevermind! Didn’t even realize you saw your teammate under the hoop! Nice pass, (as she nestled back in on my leg).
Although it took me a little while to accept, there’s something amazing about watching a team grow substantially in just a short six to eight weeks. Seeing young kids finally grasp the rules about when they have to pass, how to play in-their-face defense and watching their faces light up when they make the shot, that makes this coach feel awfully proud.
No, this is not the basketball I remember. It’s not the get-on-the-line, wall-sitting, conditioning, play-calling, pick-setting competition that I experienced in college. But it is fun and exciting to see the improvement of each and every kid week over week. It’s knowing that I had just a tiny part in teaching the game to the next generation.
Sure, it is yet another thing that changed when I became a parent. But, much like everything else that changed, it opened my eyes to a whole new world of appreciation. And, although it’s at times cringe worthy, I couldn’t be more proud to be sharing the love of the game — even at this level — with the two little loves of my life.
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