Little Life Moment #2

I don't do sports.....I'll freely admit that I'm pretty much terrible at every sport that was ever invented.  I can't do volleyball, basketball, baseball/softball, tennis, or even dodgeball.  Yep, that's right....I said dodgeball.  "How can anybody be bad at dodgeball?", you ask.  Well, apparently it's possible.  'Cause I'm terrible at it.  

You don't believe me?  Picture this - I was always the kid who got hit in the face (with my glasses) by a dodge ball (thrown.... *ahem* whipped by one of the strongest guys in gym class) because I couldn't dodge out of the way of the ball.

I believe I've proved my point.

ANYWAY...regardless of my natural lack of skill in sports, I really enjoy watching other people play these sports.  Tonight happened to be my younger brother's last high school basketball game of the season (he's a freshman so he doesn't get to play much, but the crowd goes CRAZY! when he does get to play).   In conjunction with this basketball game was the event of watching a family friend's six year old, adorable, 'curly-top' son for the day.  So naturally, we took him to the game with us.

I was not adequately prepared for this experience.

Now don't get me wrong - I had a wonderful time at the game (it was a real nail-biter!) - but I wasn't ready for all the questions that a 6 year old child naturally has about the game of basketball.  All of the questions he had about who was winning, which player I was talking about, when he could get his soft pretzel with nacho cheese from the concession stand, and "where is David?", made me smile.  He was really trying to wrap his head around the idea of this game.

My vocabulary changed greatly during this game as well, no longer referring to the home team as the Kingsway Eagles, but as the "white team", and the visiting team as the "black and red team" (according to the color of their jerseys).  Player's names were forgotten, and replaced with their corresponding color and jersey number ("white team, number 3-4").  

It was the best basketball game I have ever attended - and not because of the final score.

Even though he struggled understanding who the players were and the whole idea of 'halftime', he loved that game.  He whooped and hollered, clapped his hands, and stomped his feet on the bleachers with the rest of the fans - cheering those boys on.  He shouted "Goldie!" with a huge smile on his face, as my brother finally went on to the court to play.  He ate his popcorn and pretzel with nacho cheese, drank his can of soda (caffeine-free of course - we needed to get him to bed at a normal time), and ran to my brother, giving him a big hug and congratulating him on winning the game.  He thoroughly enjoyed his time - even though I'm not sure how much he understood.

What a gift - to be able to enjoy something even if you are not an expert in it.  To go to an event or try something new just for the fun of it - even though you might have no idea what you are doing.  Too many times, I am afraid of doing new things.  I think, "It'll be so embarrassing if people find out that I don't understand this activity 100%".  

Why do I think like that?  

Life is made up of trying new things that you don't know anything about.  Take for example parents with their first child.  My mom told me, "I didn't have any idea what I was supposed to do."  But did that stop her from trying, from experiencing the joy (and pain) that comes with parenting?  Absolutely not - and I think that my mom did pretty well raising me with zero experience (if I do say so myself) (:

So what's the point of this story?  Try new things.  Babe Ruth once said, 

"Don't let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game."

Be like a little kid in the way you approach new things - don't be afraid to ask questions until you understand something!

~Jennie