Thursday, March 31, 2011
Death of a Dream
Sports were a big part of our family's life. The parocial school the kids attended only had about 80 kids in all eight grades, and was out in the country. The school's two ball fields were right in our back yard. I thought it would be great if we got really good at softball as a family (there were ten of us, after all). I was sure we could get good enough to have a fabulous team that could take on anyone. Paul and the children were good athletes, and I loved the game.
Unfortunately, most of our children were either indifferent to softball or disliked the game. Stephen, in particular, hated softball. But, when you are in seventh or eighth grade in a small school you are expected to play no matter what. If you don't play they might have to dig all the way down to the fourth grade for your replacement.
Thirteen year old Stephen looked at me with a total lack of concern and said, "Just make sure I have it by softball."
So much for the "Dream Team".