Thursday, September 29, 2011

Bend It Like Bennett or The "Next" Great One












Which title do you like? Both are quite possible at this point. After a very successful stint in t-ball this summer our young B has gotten heavily involved in more team sports this fall.




While attending a 2 week camp earlier this summer with his big sister, B was introduced to this funny game where people run around on a field of grass chasing a ball with odd designs all over it. The objective is apparently to try to kick said ball into a net, but this does not happen very often. After several days of observing this sporting spectacle, Mr. Mom was informed that this strange game is called soccer and that apparently millions of American youth play it. More surprisingly, many youth allegedly do so of there own free will. With a contorted look on his face, Mr. Mom thought to himself (insert your vision of a cartoon bubble here), "Interesting. A game where you can't use your hands, yet coaches use the term dribbling. Players run around constantly with minimal breaks in play or substitutions. And scoring happens as frequently as the arrival of Haley's Comet. Sounds fun."




But, he loves it. The aforementioned camp was such a success that both A&B were chomping at the bit to sign up for fall soccer and play some actual games against kids their own age. B was placed on the Lions, a team of 8 ferocious Kindergarten-age boys who have boundless amounts of energy. They practice for 45 minutes on Thursday evenings and play a 1-hour game each Saturday. If you have any exposure to Kindergarten-age boys, you realize that this is just enough time before they lose focus on the soccer ball and move onto "we're bored horse-play". It has been a great experience, despite B sometimes choosing to be a distant observer of the action. This is mostly the case when Coach designates him to play the position of Defense. In Kindergarten soccer, playing Defense is apparently code for standing around by your net paying minimal attention, because every boy that takes his turn playing Defense invariably starts dandelion-picking, people-watching, ballerina-spinning, etc. After three hotly contested games, the passion for soccer still exists. The boys are not supposed to keep score at this level (you know, everyone gets a trophy), but boys inevitably do and B will quickly tell anyone who asks that his team has won 1 game and lost 2. The highlight for us was B scoring his team's first goal in its first game. It was a solid left-footed boot on a breakaway. Look out Pele.




B's other activity is hockey. After two sessions of skating lessons in our pre-EP life and countless games of floor hockey in the basement here in spacious EP, B was openly excited to play hockey this year. As naive, clueless, rookie hockey parents, this was slightly intimidating for Mr. Mom and Mrs. Dad, but the Hopkins Hockey Association (http://www.hopkinshockey.com/) has made it virtually idiot-proof for us and we commend them for it. Great people, and to this point we have not come across stereotypical Hockey Dad yelling at his 7-year old from behind the boards during practice. Bravo.




They start them at 5 in Hopkins, although there are probably some over-achieving 4-year olds out there, and B is officially a Mini-Mite. It was Mr. Mom heaven gearing him up in full pads that first day. The highlight for B was his mouthguard, which he wore the entire time and thus could not speak clearly to any adult/coach/volunteer helping organize the crazy mass of 5-8 year-olds that comprises the pre-season hockey clinics that are currently underway. To date, it has been all skating. It is well organized and the coaches quickly segregate the kids based on skating ability after observing them for 15 minutes or so. Then an adult goes with each group and works on a particular skill. I don't know how they get it to work, but it does. Some kids are skating circles around the others and are ready for the NHL. Others can't even stand up or move. It is a great cross-section of talent. However, that has likely been little B's issue to date.




B wants to play hockey. That means have stick, hit puck, score goal. What I don't think he realized initially was that this is all done on skates while skating. After a few times of no sticks/just learning how to skate, poor B got frustrated and even had some crying sessions of "I don't want to go to hockey." Well, since Mr. Mom is a hard-ass and always forces his kids to do things they don't want to do, he had to drag B there on two different occasions. Then on the 4th day, a miracle occurred.




B could always stand up and scoot around on his own, but for some reason, taking a skating stride and pushing off to propel himself just was not there. As a result, he couldn't keep up with the older kids who were skating circles around him while they were warming up for their tryout for the MN Wild later that day. This frustrated B and compounded his sadness over hockey. He just wants to play. Then Coach Dan, the leader of the merry band of adults running the show, took an individual interest in B and physically grabbed his feet to show him how it works. Then the light bulb just turned on. It was that easy, and just took someone other than Mr. Mom showing him/telling him (already ignoring dad - great). For the rest of the day, Mr. Mom proudly watched his son, who was beaming from ear-to-ear under his helmet, skate, yes actually skate, around the rink. The best part was his smile. Just seeing him, you could tell he was thinking, "All right. I'm on my way. Now I can play with the big boys." It melted my old, crusty heart. There was a little comical element to this breakthrough though too. He is much stronger pushing off his right foot than his left. And any Physics major can tell you what happens then. He is skating around in circles. It is fantastic, and hopefully hockey can only go uphill from here.



We love you B. May you always have that enthusiasm to try/do/enjoy everything.

Tuesday, September 06, 2011

Empty Nester

School has officially begun. A, B, & C are off and Mrs. Dad is saving lives one colon at a time. That leaves Mr. Mom (as seen in this picture) free to do what he deems appropriate. Admittedly, it is a strange, eerie, somewhat melancholy feeling to be in this position, home alone for 2 hours a day Mon.-Fri., but I will do my best to take this challenge head on.

Happy 2011-2012 school year everyone. May your years of higher learning help to lead you down your chosen path, or, as in my case, to this very spot. Hello couch and ESPN, my old friends. I've missed you.