Close your eyes..... let me remind you.....You are the "sporty" type. You played softball and basketball since the age of 9 and both came naturally to you, although basketball was a sport that took you a little longer to flourish. You've been on a number of all-star softball teams, have an extensive collection of trophies and t-shirts and championship titles. You've got a state medal and were part of an awesome high school basketball team as a junior.
All of these things required some natural talent, but also required a great deal of time/effort to accomplish any of this. Basketball was demanding. 6 days a week from November through March, summer leagues, open gyms and weight lifting on the off season to prepare for the next year. You played through shin splints, broken fingers, torn ligaments in your hand and various other bumps and bruises acquired on and off the court. Taking a charge and drawing the hard fouls were just the "fuel" needed to bump us up to the next level and excel during games. We would dive for balls in the outfield and slide into bases as if we were on slip and slides.
We'd wear eye black and taped our shirts to look tough. A certain color bandanna, headband or braid in our hair showed team unity and wearing socks to our knees or bright red cleats when your colors were maroon and gold or purple and gold, appeared "cool" because we could "walk the walk" and not just run our mouths. We were muscular and tone and strong (and in the summer, tan :-) ). We wore 15 lb vests and ran up and down bleachers in the gym or stadium, PEP drills, suicides, 6 in/6 out, 5 on 5 transition or had our weight training coach pile on weight and weight and weight and then make us do grueling leg presses, biceps, triceps, EVERYTHING...
After the game, there were newspaper and sometimes TV reporters to talk with us. The crowds were insane and pumped everyone up just at the right time. We'd sign autographs for the little kids that wanted to "be like us" when they got to high school. They'd talk about the awesome blocks in the paint, hook shots, 3 point shots from the wing, full court press, etc etc..... or maybe a diving catch, throwing a runner out at home (Then screaming "joanie's got a gun" at the top of my lungs), hitting a game winning double, or even better, home run....
Now, do me a favor. Anyone out there.... PUNCH ME IN THE FACE AND TELL ME TO WAKE UP AND REALIZE THE YEAR IS 2012 AND NOT 1996. I AM 32 (soon to be thirty fricken three years old)!
Life has changed a bit since then. You have 2 kids now. You do not have time to spend 20 minutes a day working on ball handling skills, because kids need fed, kids need baths, kids need to play, kids need a movie, kids need puzzles, kids need to puke all over you, kids need to bounce, kids need to have lunches packed, kids need clothes washed, you get the idea.
I am not asking to have that craziness again. It was fun when I was 16, and life has evolved into the person I am today. Part of who I am today was formed and molded out of that 16 year old girl. However, is it seriously too much to ask to have a fraction of these past abilities for ONE HOUR A WEEK EACH MONDAY NIGHT?
Give me wind and legs and jump shots and hook shots like the days of old. Set up a trap, we need a cutoff person.... If people come out playing man against us, give me the ability to remember some good old fashioned motion offense. Slide my feet, shuffle on D, hedge through screens.....
Instead, Mondays are more like:
- Our game is when? 8:30?? I just got comfortable in my sweats. What the hell am I going to do in a few weeks when we play at 9:30.
- left handed hook.............. why the hell did I even attempt that
- fast break..... brain, tell legs to get moving...legs aren't moving..... they score...now I'm there.... shit, we gotta run back the other way.
- Playing down low...in comes the ball....get ready to block..get ready to block.... she shoots, I jump..... I shoulda gone to the bathroom before I started playing the game...
- I used to have pretty good hands....... now, not so much
- I got kneed in the ass THREE MONTHS AGO and it hurts to sit down. So much for playing with multiple injuries and through the pain.
- I get home and still have to clean up the house, take out the trash (got lucky today, hubby was home this afternoon and did that for me), put monsters to bed (Grammy got them down for me tonight though), pack lunches, shower and do something with my hair so I can look presentable for the next morning.....
- When KT comes to the games with me, half of my time on the court is trying to rebound and half of it is trying to listen to her from the bleachers. She needs to go to the bathroom or she's thirsty and needs a drink..... Sit down kid, Mama needs to box out.
- I wear my arm band to look cool.............. I look like a dope.... a dope that can't make a jump shot and is wearing an arm band.
- We say "it doesn't matter that we don't win..........we're having fun." That's typically the stuff that comes out of the mouths of people that don't win anything. ha. We do still have fun though.
What's funny is that I feel like I work harder now....I never get a second to waste any time while the kids are awake. When I finally get them to sleep, I should be doing other stuff, but I'd rather waste time............ making myself stress out tenfold when things aren't done and I need to feed kids or get out the door in the morning......
So, the moral of this story is that my body must take heed to this advice and let me have 1 hour of glory a week..........the rest can go to my kids, my job, my husband, my house....whatever. Just let me think that I'm still tone, still strong, still athletic and still have a clue.........
Love,
Me
No comments:
Post a Comment