T-ball season is officially over. About midway through the season, Six took a liking to another sport.
Hoops.
Instead of rushing home from school, changing his clothes and racing into the backyard to play in the World Series, it was all about basketball and semi-final games. At school, the kids were pretending to be the Lakers and some other made-up team. At home, my kid wants to be the Lakers. Mind you, he's never seen the Lakers play. The Cal Bears? Yes. The Lakers? Notsomuch.
We play basketball on the slate patio in our backyard, dribbling around a table and chair set. A gaping hold between two branches in our Magnolia tree serves as our makeshift hoop. He talks Kobe Bryant and Magic Johnson. I talk Larry Bird and Danny Ainge, my two favorite old-school players from my favorite team, the Boston Celtics. He talks personal fouls. I talk playing good D (and hey, could you stop tuggin' on mom's shirt, kid?).
On the weekends we hit the local schoolyard with kid-friendly hoops. The kind that adjust so that kindergarteners can hear nothin' but net. This also bodes well for me because I haven't played basketball in a long time. In the end it all comes down to a good game of HORSE. And I suddenly feel like a silly teenager when my kid misses a basket and says, "I'm a HO" and I snicker in my head. I know he'll be doing the same thing, only out loud, when he's a teenager and his buddies make that proclamation.
I didn't play basketball in school. My sport of choice was volleyball. But with two older brothers (by six and nine years), I learned the basics when I was a kid. We'd play everyday in our neighbor's backyard, an official hoop. My brothers liked to show me off to their friends because I was like six, a girl, and I could sink a shot. We spent entire summers making up new versions of HORSE (and I can guarantee they laughed when I missed a basket and said I was a HO). When we played games, I was always a Celtic. And it's only been in recent weeks that I've come to appreciate just how much they taught me on the court. If someone had whispered in my ear that I'd be doing the same thing with my son many years later, I'd never have believed them.
We're big baseball fans (but let's not discuss our home team). Cripes, we named Six after a baseball legend. But this detour to hoops. It's good.
Oddly enough, the NBA Finals has come down to two teams: the Lakers and the Celtics. The Lakers are favored to win. The Celtics, however, have a better track record in NBA final match ups against the Lakers. Six initially was rooting for his team. But when he heard that the Celtics sport his favorite color, green, and that their mascot is a leprechaun-ish character, he joined my cause. Now if he'd only stop saying he's a ho.
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I know some of you want to know what this is all about. I'm happy to tell you. Soon.
