Old times


An out of town husband and no assistant coach lead me to a place I haven't been since college. Coaching 7 first graders came as a delightful surprise. I wasn't nervous which should have been my first clue. Isn't it always when you are nervous you do a better job. At least it is for me. Anyway, the first 5 minutes it was, "oh yea, I'm in charge...what do I do?!". I harkend back to when I played ball and rattled through the drills I liked the best. Almost all were too hard to try or too hard to explain: "OK pass to the person, cut, run toward the basket, set a pick.."...I don't think so. After another painful 5 minutes I asked the other team's coach when do we start the game. "Is now ok?" he asks. No hesitation from me...games are more fun anyway.
An odd number of players puts rotations in a bind. Having to tell a kid he has to sit out another 4 minutes until the next substitution was absolutely painful. The look on their faces was of utter disappointment. Like when you tell a kid you have to leave the playground after you just show up. I assure each one, " You'll go in next time, don't worry. I'm sorry. Everyone has a double sit out. Get ready for your turn."
We did very well for a bunch of rookies lobbing a ball 8 ft into the air to make a basket. We're not supposed to keep score, but the kids have no problem remembering. It's easier than remembering where we put the socks we took off 30 seconds ago.
My son tells me we won. "Well", I say, "as long as we did our best." giggle, giggle.

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