Tag Archives: sanity

Sports Niceties in Real Life

IMG_5873 (1)Spring sports are winding down and the whole thing seems like a blur of driving, costume changes and sandwiches eaten in the car. There was the requisite amount of elbow jabbing, name calling and blood letting. But there were also the niceties of sports, the repeated rituals, words and actions that sort of smooth out the bad moments. Every time I see them, they give me pause. I dream of incorporating some of these niceties into my own, non-athletic life.

Like when it’s 5pm and everyone in my house is starving and I’ve forgotten to defrost the chicken. A text comes in telling me that that there’s a game I forgot about in 10 minutes, and the uniform required for that game is soaking wet in the washing machine. I look at my annoyed but unsurprised teammates. I want them to shout, “take a knee!” and then do so until I get my act together. Maybe they’d even clap as I limp off the field.

Any time I’m off my game, I wish a coach would approach the mound. I feel a wave of relief every time I see this happen in Little League. On that mound, the pitcher is the only person in the world, alone with his own self-doubt and terror. Enter a calm adult to address this stressful situation and either diffuse it or fix it. The coach offers a hand on the shoulder, a few words of encouragement and a few very direct suggestions. Sometimes the coach just pulls the kid. Everyone applauds as he goes back to the dugout. He can try again another day.

I wonder if certain world leaders who are consistently throwing wild pitches ever yearn for some company on the mound. Maybe they could use a few tips or even the hard truth that they might be more comfortable in left field. The crowd would offer a supportive clap while we warmed someone else up on the sideline. (I can hear an imaginary coach whispering in my ear as I’m writing this. “Hey kid, I see what you’re trying to do. Stay with it, maybe try throwing a little more to the right.” Okay, I tell him, I’ll try.)

I also love the way parents in the stands yell nice things like “good idea!” when a kid has completely messed up. When it’s my kid who’s messed up, I want to hug those parents. Who couldn’t use someone like that following them around on the off chance she hit a parked car because she totally thought a station wagon would fit in a compact spot? Maybe afterward, as she backed out and avoided hitting the car on the other side, someone would shout, “Good eye, kid!”

The third base coach brings a little Tony Robbins magic to baseball. He calls to the nervous batter, “Come on kid, you’re a hitter!” The child rolls his shoulders back with new confidence and often goes ahead and hits that ball. Each of us, in our own way, is trying to do something as impossible as hitting a tiny white ball with a narrow wooden stick. Let’s start telling each other we’re hitters.

Obviously there’s nothing better than Silent Sunday. I’ve rarely seen two words that are more harmoniously matched. What a joy it is to watch an entire sporting event in silence. It’s as if soccer has been temporarily turned into golf. The kids rely on their teammates and themselves, and the spectators get to mind our own business for a bit. Some of us walk away with the odd realization that screaming nonsensical words like “defense” and “offside” wasn’t really helping the team after all. Silent Sunday. I don’t know how it gets better than that.

Is Anyone Else Tired?

Remember when that new, zealous guy started work at your office? The one who thought it would be more productive to come in a few minutes earlier and stay a few minutes later? Next thing you knew, your nine-to-five job was eight-to-six, for the same pay. I wonder if this is what’s happened to motherhood.… Continue Reading

Notes for Next Christmas

I have a friend who has a very thoughtful way of living her life, and I try to pick up her habits when I can. She recently told me that every year after Christmas she takes a few minutes to jot down what worked and what didn’t, so that she doesn’t make the same mistakes… Continue Reading

Wake Me Up When The Election’s Over

We’re almost there, people. The election is just over the hump of the weekend, and the end is actually in sight. I tend to like a salacious and horrifying story, the inner-workings of human drama. But there’s no thrill in this election. It just feels prickly and uncomfortable, like the angora sweater my grandmother bought… Continue Reading

Jigsaw Puzzles With Toddlers

If you’ve ever done a jigsaw puzzle with a two year old, you know what it means to run through the entire range of human emotions. You hope, you cringe, you pull your hair out. At some point, you’ll be disgusted, elated and then relieved. It’s a worthy exercise, and its success depends on your… Continue Reading

Local Woman Gets Angry in Person

The other day I was stopped at an intersection, looking both ways as I’ve been told to do, when the woman in the car behind me started honking repeatedly to encourage me to take the plunge. I wasn’t in the mood for a fiery death, so I waited for the traffic to clear in both… Continue Reading

After Graduation, The Leaving Period

A year ago, a friend of mine whose child had just graduated from high school suggested I write an article about this big milestone. I thought about it and decided to wait. It would have been like writing a guidebook about Paris based on internet research, without actually going there and seeing the light, smelling… Continue Reading

High School Commencement Speech – First Draft

It’s kind of weird how Rye High School hasn’t asked me to deliver this year’s commencement address yet. I mean it’s a month away and these kinds of speeches don’t write themselves. I’m local, I’m verbose, the price is right. And heck, I’m going to be there anyway. Assuming they’ve been calling my landline or… Continue Reading

Greatest Mother in the World Spotted in YMCA Parking Lot

As published in the Rye Record on January 22, 2016 I saw a woman leaving the YMCA yesterday with a baby strapped to her chest, another, slightly larger one in a stroller, and a three year old holding her hand. She was infested with small children. I stopped to watch. How in the world are… Continue Reading

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