Heartbroken

Over the 15 + years I have kept this blog, most of what I have written about my sons has been positive.  Accomplishments, achievements, growth.  Maybe that's because I have great sons (which I do) or maybe it's because it is a natural tendency on may part to want to remember the good times.

As anyone who has children knows, however, being a parent isn't all wine and roses.  Tough days and tough times are part of the deal.  It's all of a piece, the good and the bad. 

Over the past couple of weeks, Joe tried out for the Stars basketball program.  He hoped to be selected for one of the four 5th grade teams they are fielding this season.  I think more than 80 boys tried out for 40 spots over three days of tryouts at the TOA baseball courts in Cool Springs.  Joe made it through the first round of cuts, where the number of boys was reduced to 56 boys.  On Friday afternoon - with Jude in New Orleans with her parents - I received an e-mail confirming Joe was was one of the last 16 boys who was cut.  

The really hard part for Joe - and me, actually - is that all three of his teammates who tried out made it, as did three of his 5th grade classmates at USN.  In other words, all of Joe's closest friends - his athletic peers - made the basketball team and Joe didn't.

Joe was crushed.  He was as down as I've ever seen him, about anything.  Hurt.  Embarrassed.  Sad.  All of  it.  

While the rational part of my brain realizes that part of being a parent is giving your child the space to experience disappointment and failure, it's so damn hard for me to watch Joe go through this.  I feel helpless because I can't make it better.  I can't fix this.  

I feel responsible, too, because I wonder what more I could have done to prevent this disappointment for Joe.  I could have gotten him in the gym with me more often.  I could have - and maybe should have - placed him on a more competitive team, earlier, with more advanced coaching.  I could have coached his recreational league basketball teams over the years.  I could have gotten him even more lessons with Coach Amos (Gregory).  

I have always been realistic about my boys' athletic abilities, their talents and, yes, their limitations.

Objectively, for basketball, Joe is on the small side and he's not particularly quick.  He is an above average ball handler but good enough to run the point against a pressure defense.  He's not strong enough on the ball.  Certainly, he's not a leaper.  He is not aggressive in trying to get his shot.  In short, he is his father's (and mother's) son.  

What Joe brings to the table in basketball are intangibles or specific skills that aren't going to be highlighted in a tryout setting, which awards boys who can get to the rim, get their shot off, or are aggressive enough to shoot a lot.  Basketball is about getting buckets, in the end, right?

Joe is a leader on the basketball court.  With his Bucket Squad team, Joe always is the most intense player on the court.  He plays the best defense.  He works the hardest.  He runs the team.  When he's not there - as Coach Thomas says - the team tends to fall apart against good competition.  Joe run the offense.  He sees the entire court well and he is an excellent passer.  He makes his teammates better by making sure that even the less skilled players get passes from him so they can steal an easy bucket or two.  

Joe plays basketball the right way.  Unselfishly.  Why?  Because that's how I taught him to play.  

And I think I made a huge mistake.  

Now, after what happened, I feel like I should have taught Joe shoot first, pass second.  To play selfishly.  To take 3-point shot after 3-point shot in games, regardless of whether they go in or not.  I worry that by teaching him how to play basketball the right way I stifled his aggressiveness.  Who knows?

The rational part of my mind realizes that it's good for Joe to experience disappointment in his life.  Real, cold disappointment that hurts.  For Joe, and his friends, life is all about going, doing and getting.

Where are we going for fall break?

What are we doing this weekend?

Are we getting season tickets to Belmont basketball games?

No that Joe isn't grateful for what we have, because he is.  Joe is not spoiled.  He conscientiously thanks Jude and me for things large and small, much more so that JP does.  For rides to practice.  For cooking dinner.  Still, his life is good and, in many ways, easy and without struggle.

My hope for him is that he can use this - this setback - to fuel him to work harder, to be even more competitive, and to strive to achieve greater things.  I want it to drive him, day in and day out.  I want it to make him tougher, harder, and more intense when he is competing, athletically and academically.  

It's been a rough few days, for Joe and for Jude and me, too.  We have much to be thankful for, though, and we'll pull together, makes sense of this, and get through it.