Adam started playing hockey this year. It began in September when they had a skills session where all the kids demonstrate their skating to see what team level they would play on - Blue, Red or White. Blue is the lowest level and I had no doubt in my mind that Adam would be blue. Skating isn't his forte and I don't care. What I care about was the smile on his face when he got into his equipment and the excitement in his voice when he talked about finally being on a real hockey team "with a real jersey mom!" So I sat in the stands and watched him go through the drills.
It was a long process. We're Canadian eh and everyone and their sled dog wants to play hockey. Finally it was Adam's turn for the first drill. They were to skate as fast as they could to the centre of the rink and jump over three hockey sticks laid out on the ice about 15 feet apart. Adam skated up to the first one, jumped and fell. My stomach was clenched, my heart in my throat and my hands pressed up against my face. He picked himself up, went back and attempted to jump the first hockey stick again. This time he made it. He went on to the second stick, jumped and fell. Don't ever kid youself, this parenting thing isn't for the weak or faint of heart. But then he did something unexpected. He picked himself up, went back to the first stick and started all over again. And he did this until he made it across all three sticks in a row.
It's January now and Adam's skating has gotten better, but not as quickly as the rest of his blue team. It takes him longer to turn, he's a little slower to stop, by the time he gets to the puck, it's on the way down to the other side of the rink. Adam's oblivious to his lack of skill. He loves hockey. He loves going, he loves getting dressed, he loves the practices, he loves being part of a team. And his coach? His coach may as well walk on water. Adam loves him too.
Saturday Adam had a game. I sat in the stands and watched as he skated his little heart out. And in one miraculous moment, Adam and the puck were at the same place at the same time. My heart was racing. All Adam ever wants is to be able to hit that puck just once in a game. His pride when he tells anyone and everyone about his hockey/puck connection is palpable. He took his stick and hit that puck with all his might.....in the wrong direction.
In the stands, I was trying to reverse the puck's direction with my mind. Apparently sheer willpower isn't enough.
And then a little later on in the game, he got the puck again. It was near the net and his team members were yelling for him to pass, but his control isn't that great and he hit the puck, not to one of his fellow skaters or in the net, but off to the side.
By the time I got to the changeroom, the awards for the game had already been given out. The awards are given out every week whether the team won or lost and it's not even an actual award, only the coach calling out the names of the kids who had done a great job that game. Adam was sitting on the bench with his head down. I came over and he had tears in his eyes.
What's wrong honey? I asked.
How come I never get an award? he asked back.
My heart broke for him. Because, yes the kids who did an exceptional job should be praised. The goalie on Adam's team busted his ass this Saturday and made some incredible saves. I'm not a parent who believes every child should get a trophy just for showing up. If your child wins the 100 yard dash, they should get the first place trophy. But when you're on a team, should it always be the number of goals or passes that are rewarded? The results? Or should effort be rewarded as well.
And so I quietly tried to explain to Adam that one day his name will be called out too and think of how special it will feel because he's waited so long to hear it.
Life is competitive, sports are competitive. Right now, Adam's the weakest player on his team and he doesn't know and doesn't care. Maybe that'll change and he'll come into his skating like he's come into other things in his life. If not, the day will come he's going to realize he's the weakest player. I can't stop that day from happening but I'll do my damnedest to postpone it for as long as possible.
Saturday I overheard one of the other kids say to his dad that they could have gotten another goal if Adam had just passed the puck. We were yelling at him to pass, why didn't he?
I heard the dad reply, Adam's doing his best.
Shouldn't that be rewarded too?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
OMG, I have tears in my eyes, all I can say Sharon, is that I believe you were handpicked by angels to be Adams mother.
I remember watching my little brother's first games (he is 12 years younger than me), back when he was five years old, and his little skates were turned so far inward his ankles supported him more than the blades of his skates did.
My heart broke into a billion tiny pieces every time he let a goal in, as I watched his little head drop down between his knees in total dissappointment, it was BRUTAL to watch, between that and the happy pride that made our eyes well up, me and my Mom spent practically the entire game crying.
Awww. That Dad's response was awesome. I know some parents that wouldn't be so kind.
Just keep encouraging him to practice. Sometimes it isn't about the skill, its all about the passion.
Rachael, you need to start writing my blog because that's exactly how I felt - my heart was breaking when he shot the wrong way but I was so fiercely proud of his perseverance at the same time. And Michelle, this dad was awesome. He's so incredibly nice - the one who's cheering on every single kid on the team, the one who introduced himself to this dunce-cap hockey mom and came early on the day that Adam was the goalie to help me get him into the truckload of equipment.
Ugh. This made my heart heavy. It is so hard to be a parent sometimes, and WAY harder to be a kid. I am glad that dad said the right thing, but I would have taken it a step further and told him that "we don't talk about our teammates like that".
Post a Comment