“It’s the most wonderful time of the year!” my son said.
Easter? Nu uh.
Vacation? Not today. This time isn’t even wonderful for the entire family; my daughter and I think it’s miserable. What is this magical, dual-emotion time of year?
The weather is meh and the school year is so close to being finished but, yet, so far away. Other than St. Patrick’s Day there aren’t any parties (no offense to March birthday people) but the reason my 12-year-old says this is the most wonderful time of the year?
And why does this month make me miserable?
This is the most sportiest month of the year.
I have a couple of girlfriends who can kick my boys’ heinies in both physical games and sports trivia; I have some male friends who only go to college games to watch the marching band, but in this house the Wonderful/Miserable line is gender based. My boys love sports and my daughter and I are not sporty. At all.
Youth sports pretty much dictate our lives during certain seasons. If I didn’t want that to sound as bad as it does, I could spin it to, sports give my family structure. Youth sport practices are set for certain days of the week; games are set for certain days of the week and we fill in the rest of our lives around them. If there was one kid and one sport, that would be more than enough “structure” for my calendar, but we have two boys.
This month their basketball seasons are winding down: teen son is officiating; tween son is playing. I must only don my royal blue and white basketball spirit jersey (Go Thunder!) for a few more games before the 2016 season is in the books.
But that’s why this is the most wonderful time of the year for those boys and their father. It’s still youth basketball season…but baseball season has already begun. Recently that same Thunder player started going from a basketball game to baseball practice. What’s more wonderful for a kid who loves both games, right?
But it’s not just youth sports, oh, no. Those alone would be tolerable (except for the smell) but it’s college sports time, too. Basketball to be exact.
“March Madness” has an entirely different meaning for them than it does for me. They study their brackets, fill them out based on statistics as well as team loyalty, and they watch as many games as possible. I, on the other hand, play along and fill-out my bracket based on my attraction to the college town. (UCONN all the way, Baaabeeee). If there’s a toss-up, I pick based on the color of their uniforms.
I only watch the last 15 minutes of the very last game.
Scorecard: We have youth basketball, youth baseball, college basketball, but wait! Pro basketball season is going on, hockey season is in full swing and professional baseball players have reported for spring training.
Youth sports. College sports. Professional sports. Their seasons all entwined…it’s not natural!
I’m not kvetching because I have to give up the good TV for their puck and ball bonding; I’m not miserable because entire weekends are spent driving from gym to field to home so that they can watch overpaid or questionably educated athletes play a sport.
Wait…yes, I am. That’s exactly why. But they are my boys and I’ll fill out my bracket, swap the blue and white T-shirts for red and white jerseys (Go Warriors!) I know that with each game that passes the real most wonderful time of the year creeps closer.
And you can bet those sporty boys are going to play along with me then, too.