Last week I wrote about how I'm thankful that
basketball is a part of Connor's life. He loves it, and it is so good for him. Today was the first game day for his team. They played two games in Guelph, one right after the other, so we pretty much devoted our day to driving to Guelph, watching two games and driving home. But you know what? I would not trade today for anything in the world.
I have never claimed to be a sports fan. This is the sixth year that I have driven Connor to practices and games and warmed a bench, usually with a book in my hand. Okay, not during games. During games I usually paid attention to the action, unless of course there was someone to talk to, and then I was often far more involved in my conversation than in the game. I have even declared on occassion (much to my husband's chagrin) that the last couple of minutes are all that really matter anyway.
|
White number 7 is my boy! |
But all that changed today. Today I was riveted! The first game was an easy win. We were ahead from the first minute on, and ended up taking the game 57-12. It was a great way to start, though. The boys' confidence was building throughout, and although Connor wasn't being very aggressive, he was really concentrating on defense, and was getting his hands on the ball some of the time. But it was the last few seconds of that game that took my breath away. My boy caught the ball, looked around, made the decision to shoot, focused on the basket, and sunk a three point shot! Wow! He was so excited! When the buzzer went I could hear other kids on the team congratulating him: "Nice shot, Connor!" "Way to go, Connor". High fives all around. He was so proud! He was still walking on air when the next game began.
It was just the boost Connor needed to get himself in position and sink another basket in his first shift, and another three pointer later in the game. This time the teams were much more evenly matched, and kept within a few points of each other, trading the lead back and forth for the entire game. I was quite literally on the edge of my seat, and so was Chris. So were
all the parents. Only Janelle, with her DS and activity books, was blissfully ignorant with her back to the game. In the end, we won by four points, and the boys were pumped! It took quite a while to actually get them off the court and ready to pile into cars and head home. The coach told us before we left that every single player had scored, which is his whole philosophy in coaching. They all took part; they all contributed, they all shared the win. I am a very biased mom, but I think that was the best basketball I've ever seen.
Shortly after we got home, while Chris was preparing supper and I was upstairs hurrying Janelle into the shower, I heard a bounce, bounce, bounce outside on the driveway. I peeked out the window and sure enough, there was Connor shooting baskets in his uniform (shorts and tank — at the end of November), flying high from his victory. Something tells me he'll always remember today.
And I am
full of thanks.