Closed Court, Open Track

With much sadness, Bball Girl closed the door on her winter basketball season. They did not do well in the 2-game all stars series, but I digress. At the final buzzer, that sweet little thing had huge alligator tears in her eyes. Silly me, thinking it was because they lost their 2nd and final game of the season. Oh no, she informed me. "I don't want basketball to end," she practically wailed. The heart of a true athlete. I say athlete, not basketball lover, because honestly, it could be anything. She does love basketball, but really, any sport, any competition, she's all in.

What does her sweet mother do to comfort such a sad moment? "Oh, honey, it's okay...track starts tomorrow!" No better remedy than to put the past behind you and move on to what's next. Okay, so that is not always the best advice, but for a 9-year old, it's all about the transition.

Funny thing, Youngest went to school and in his normal, efficient manner, managed to tell his kindergarten teacher that his sister was starting track. "Why, you should do it too," says the teacher. So what did I come home to? Chronic pleas, of "me too!" Incessant, actually. My comeback was that we had missed the deadline. It's too late to register this year, I told him. Saturday night when I see an email in my inbox from the track program director, inviting Youngest to come out and try track the next day, I would have like to have been beyond shocked. Couldn't actually be shocked because his teacher is married to that said track program director. Clearly they talk. Still, very nice of him to extend an invitation to the little guy to come on out as well.

And that is the story of how Youngest came to be a track star. Just kidding. Out we went on Sunday afternoon to a beautiful, warm spring day on the high school track. Can you say "kids everywhere?" Massive amounts of track superstars, from the youngest 4 year old to high schoolers - and their mamas. A few daddies, too. Somehow we found the right group for Youngest and Bball Girl (am I really going to call her Bball Girl all spring season?). As I start to walk away, Bball Girl gives me that look of panic, "Don't. Leave. Me." Ahh, you'll be fine, I tell her as I step away a bit. Those nerves of trying something brand new, and even a muttered "I don't want to do this," could have been seen and heard.

Sure enough, as soon as they started warming up, with a lap or two around the track, she was in the zone. Did someone say do something athletic? That's all she needed to hear. The teams rotated stations and girlfriend did it all with ease and poise. She's gonna like this. Youngest's group was a bit more scattered, and sometimes downright painful to watch. Five and six year olds with a few parents who felt they needed to do the drills with them. Odd. Soccer Chick and I had a great time sitting in reflection on the sidelines. Best moment might be during the long jump when Isaac completed his jump and ran to get back in the line. He was so busy talking to us, he didn't notice the first, second or third time when a kid butt him. "Watch what's going on, buddy. Scoot up," I tell him. With the most comedic facial expressions he can muster up, he waits until the kid turns his shoulder and squeezes himself up to where he was supposed to be. As soon as the boy turns around, Youngest looks away as if he is staring at the birds. Soccer Chick and I could not stop laughting. Way to be smooth.

All in all, a great start to what should be something both of those superstars really enjoy. Soccer Chick? Don't you worry about her, she's getting ready. Season kicks off on Thursday.