Basketball
Eat, sleep, breathe basketball.
Play hard, play smart, play together.
Basketball never stops.
Hard work, sacrifice, passion, trust, service.
I live with a coach.
As do the boys, and as life would have it, Brandon's obsession has fully and unconditionally rubbed off on his sons. To say they are basketball fans is just not enough. They are players in training, and train they do. Constantly. On our sweet little twenty-dollar toy goal hung over a tiny closet door in the kitchen. They run, dive, crawl, slide, swerve, lunge, spin-move, dribble, pass, jump, and shoot. Around the table, down the tiny hallway, even into our bedroom when the need arises.
All the time. Every. Day.
Trey has these elaborate schedules worked out where he plays for both teams, but somehow he always wins. With the microwave as his countdown clock, he keeps score on an old playboard that Brandon gave him or, in desperate situations, a piece of cardstock wrapped in a sheet protector.
His remarkable skill, undoubtedly from taking shots since he was 18 months old, needs a team to play on. Desperately. Someday, surely someday, the overactive fear-paralyzed brain will let up. And he will shine.
Aden has been working on his game too, with his own ball, since Trey won't let Aden be a part of his games. But his shot accuracy is improving with practice, and his dribbling and speed are downright impressive. He narrates for himself, and the final scores of his games usually end up somewhere around 3500 to 3500.
If there is any problem, it's aggression. In Aden's words, "Mama, next year when I play on a team, I'm just gonna kick them in the face!" Wow. Hold on there, Taz. Love the passion, gotta work on the temper and violent ball-entitlement situation.
We're so very much enjoying Brandon's games. Have even ventured out to a few away games this season. We are beyond proud of the Golden Eagles, who have already doubled their win total from last year. Proud of their coach, too!
The games are intense and fun, and buddy, we get into it. Trey now refuses to sit with us, preferring to be on his own where "nobody will distract me" and so he can see his Daddy clearer in order to mimic his coaching moves. Aden likes to yell at various players by name at random times, whether or not they are on the court. But by goodness, Aden is faithfully the loudest fan in the gym. And from what I understand, the players love it.
On our one warm January day this past Tuesday, we went outside. And guess what we did.
Yep, obsessed.
Play hard, play smart, play together.
Basketball never stops.
Hard work, sacrifice, passion, trust, service.
I live with a coach.
As do the boys, and as life would have it, Brandon's obsession has fully and unconditionally rubbed off on his sons. To say they are basketball fans is just not enough. They are players in training, and train they do. Constantly. On our sweet little twenty-dollar toy goal hung over a tiny closet door in the kitchen. They run, dive, crawl, slide, swerve, lunge, spin-move, dribble, pass, jump, and shoot. Around the table, down the tiny hallway, even into our bedroom when the need arises.
All the time. Every. Day.
Trey has these elaborate schedules worked out where he plays for both teams, but somehow he always wins. With the microwave as his countdown clock, he keeps score on an old playboard that Brandon gave him or, in desperate situations, a piece of cardstock wrapped in a sheet protector.
His remarkable skill, undoubtedly from taking shots since he was 18 months old, needs a team to play on. Desperately. Someday, surely someday, the overactive fear-paralyzed brain will let up. And he will shine.
Aden has been working on his game too, with his own ball, since Trey won't let Aden be a part of his games. But his shot accuracy is improving with practice, and his dribbling and speed are downright impressive. He narrates for himself, and the final scores of his games usually end up somewhere around 3500 to 3500.
If there is any problem, it's aggression. In Aden's words, "Mama, next year when I play on a team, I'm just gonna kick them in the face!" Wow. Hold on there, Taz. Love the passion, gotta work on the temper and violent ball-entitlement situation.
We're so very much enjoying Brandon's games. Have even ventured out to a few away games this season. We are beyond proud of the Golden Eagles, who have already doubled their win total from last year. Proud of their coach, too!
The games are intense and fun, and buddy, we get into it. Trey now refuses to sit with us, preferring to be on his own where "nobody will distract me" and so he can see his Daddy clearer in order to mimic his coaching moves. Aden likes to yell at various players by name at random times, whether or not they are on the court. But by goodness, Aden is faithfully the loudest fan in the gym. And from what I understand, the players love it.
On our one warm January day this past Tuesday, we went outside. And guess what we did.
Yep, obsessed.
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