Last night, as I watched the National Championship with my almost-five-year-old son, I considered trying to sabotage his burgeoning basketball career. Even though he insists it's what he wants to do for a living, I'm not sure I can handle having him in that type of high-pressure situation- especially when he's just a (highly touted) freshman. Not only because he's my baby, but because as a fan I can't have his lack of maturity losing games for my team.
As Derrick Rose stunk up the first half of last night's game, and then was unable to redeem that fact by making two free throws at the end of it, the fan in me was furious. Furious! But as I started thinking about how he should be embarassed, and how I'm so mad, those feelings were overtaken by the mama in me. That poor baby! Expected to do so much when he's only 19 years old. Anyone who fusses at him should be ashamed.
Then the fan in me takes back over. If this kid thinks he can be one and done, thinks he can leave Memphis and play with the big boys in the NBA next year, then he deserves to be treated like the man he thinks he is. It's okay to be upset with him! But then Mama Steph comes roaring back out of me, causing me to yell at the TV, "You stay in school another year, son!" I want his mom to comfort him after the game, and tell him that she loves him. That she thinks he should spend another year leading a college team so that he can build the skills and maturity he needs to have a brilliant pro career. That she can wait twelve more months before she retires to live off his wealth in the big house he promised to buy her when he's drafted.
I need to start working with Connor on his free throws.
A Story about Pens
6 years ago
2 comments:
and this is the reason i have a hard time watching sports. it's not that i don't like sports, it's that i start feeling so sorry for the team that just lost the world series, so nervous for the guy that has to make the free throw, and i can't even breathe when it comes down to one kicker in a football game. last night, keith was watching a rerun of the master's (that is some extreme golf-watching, i know). it was one of the years that tiger had won, and i cried as tiger put on his green jacket without his dad there. see, i'm a mess. i'm sorry i just wrote a blog post in your comments section.
Makes you wonder what Andre Allen's mama is say to her boy...I want to reach out and give him a tear-filled hug and yell at him all at once.
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