Mama Kat's recent post about playing basketball as a child reminded me of my own trials and tribulations in my early years of sports. I figured I'd share some of these with you.
The first "team" sport I played for the local youth club (at the time, it was called boy's club), was tee ball. I remember it well - my team was sponsored by Reeser's Auto Body - a local establishment. The team color was yellow, and our team started off absolutely terrible. I remember our first game - it was a 12-6 loss, and probably could've been worse. I could barely hit the ball past the pitcher's mound. And, worst of all, I remember being so upset when we lost, that I cried. You see, my parents really never introduced me to losing - in the back yard practicing with my dad, I thought I was the next coming of Babe Ruth. This, unfortunately, didn't translate to the tee ball field.
In the fall, I played soccer. Again, I was fantastic in the back yard - scoring goals against my dad like I was Pele. Again, this didn't transfer to the pitch - I couldn't crack the starting lineup - mainly because I was more concerned about stepping on bees. Our team didn't win a single game that year.
In the winter time, I played intramural basketball - I was the only kid on the team that didn't score a single point. I was so close that last game - I had a layup that went off the rim, and I had a wide-open shot that hit the backboard and then the rim before falling to the ground.
No, it didn't seem like I would excel at sports at all. Thankfully, as time went on, I got better, and became semi-decent in most games.