So here I am again. Sacrificing every weekend in July, sweating in the 90 degree plus heat and watching a group of little girls in their fancy black and gold uniforms play another game (the second of three to be played today). It doesn’t look like we can comeback at this point. 15-4 is a pretty solid lead. Yet we still watch and cheer and feel proud. We wear our fancy fan wear to show our support. We hover in the shade produced by the awnings we purchased; all of us, grandparents, aunts, uncles, brothers and sisters included sweating and cheering.
One of the advantages of watching our daughters play sports as opposed to our sons is that we, the parents, quickly bypass the delusions of grandeur very early on. We do not, at births moment, dream of hearing HER name announced at Yankee stadium. “Now batting, number 4, Giana Rappoccio.” For the most part, we know there is nowhere to go for girls in sports. Sure, thanks to Title IX there are more opportunities to get sports scholarships than ever. And of course, there is the WNBA and the LPGA and tennis. And I would be extremely remiss, to leave out women’s soccer (who make our country proud every time they play). But let’s be real. Ambitions such as these are not really within our realm of thought.
We are actually way beyond it.
So why do we do it? The investment of money, time and energy is enormous as any parent of a child playing travel competitive sports can describe. But we wouldn’t miss this chance for a second.
This is her second year. She started at age 7. We have won only a few games here and there. But she is good and getting better.
To watch these little girls go from one moment of talking about the flower decal on their fingernails to the next one-knee throwing drills; this is my favorite part. One minute, they are little girls acting every bit of our expectation, to suddenly be concentrating so intently on the power L of throwing. They are assertive and competitive. They are up for the challenge. Their facial expressions change. You can see the power and woman within. And of course, they are just as adorable.
We lost again and will most likely lose the next one. This means we come back tomorrow very early to play the number 1 seed team. You guessed it—we will lose again.
They endure the losses in stride. Sometimes there are tears or heads drop but most times they are ok. These are losses not failures. They are able to see that they are getting better and stronger and smarter every time they head out to the field. Their tenacity is inspiring. We, the grown-ups, have much to learn from them.
They play. Not to make it to the big leagues, not to be a pro someday, not even for a scholarship (doubt they know what that means). They love softball. They play all year: spring ball, summer ball, fall ball and winter workouts start January 1. They eat, breath, sweat, and think, softball. The sport defines them. When we have breaks between the games, they want to practice more. They cherish being a part of the squad. Their teammates are important to them. They laugh with them and support them. Some may become friends for life based on this mutual love of game.
This is the ultimate lesson. She may someday lose interest or get tired or switch to some other hobby. It will be OK. The moment is now. THAT is why we are here. We are here to play. The final destination has no meaning, no significance. It’s what we do and learn and love along the way: the most important lesson of life.
