On Saturday, we had one last basketball game. Our season was scheduled to end the weekend before, but we missed a game along the way due to weather conditions. So we were forced to end the season with a demoralizing loss to this team:
There was some debate, but I'm pretty sure that's a girl who is guarding Connor. She was built like a truck. And you can see that the rest of their team was at least a head taller than anyone on our team. It was hard to sit through.
That's Connor looking at the scoreboard, wondering, "Is it possible we only scored two points this whole game?" It was, in fact, possible. The sad part was, Connor had a great game the week before, as did the team as a whole, and everyone left the game happy and feeling good about basketball. This week, Connor left the game moaning, "Why did our last game have to be against big kids?"
To add insult to injury, the team members were all given participation trophies after the game, and of course they spelled Connor's name wrong. It fascinates me how often that happens, especially since I know I wrote it correctly on the sign-up sheet. Since Connor was already in a funk about it being the last game, and about the ugly loss (did I mention that he missed two free throws?), the misspelled trophy was just the icing on the cake. He sulked in the car on the way home, but fortunately snapped out of it pretty quickly. The sunshine and relatively warm temperatures helped, I'm sure. I still think I'm going to try to get that trophy replaced, though.
Next up? Coach pitch!
1 day ago