For the past several months, Christian has been making some big plans. I am pretty sure that he thinks he is going to be recruited for the NBA...as a six-year-old. We signed him up for a "Little Dribblers" basketball team at our local recreation center and he has been DYING for the games to start. For the past few weeks, he is constantly asking me to remind him how many days are left until the "Big Opening Day Game."
To get ready for his basketball season, he has spent countless hours in our basement playing on a plastic basketball standard that we set up. He has been working on his dribbling and of course his 3-point shot.
As we got ready to go, he asked Romney if he looked "Basketball-ish" and then proceeded to tell us that he was pretty sure that he was going to score 60 points and that he was going to dunk most of his shots. He was completely serious. (Sorry no pics, I forgot my camera.)
Well...the game did not exactly go as he had envisioned. He quickly found that it is pretty chaotic on the court with 10 other little 6-year-old boys who have never played basketball and have no idea how to pass to each other. Things got pretty bad when a loose ball hit him smack in the nose and a rebound or two hit him in the head.
Despite his "I'm Open" pleas, he never even got his hands on the ball...which meant of course...no 60 points. He was so deflated. I ached for him and wondered what was going through his head as I watched him on the sidelines rubbing his swollen red nose and desperately trying not to cry.
But I was so proud of him because every time he was put in the game, he ran his little heart out and whenever one of his teammates scored a basket, he would cheer as loud as could be. So, even though it was obvious that it was not the start of his "glory days," he did learn that being a part of a team is also pretty cool.