Wishing You Were Some Place Different
This little stream of consciousness comes with a disclaimer...Does not apply to marriage or quite a few other facets of life...but it applied in the following way to me.
I coached basketball for many years. I coached in Alaska, Colorado and Missouri and I really enjoyed it. There was a time when I thought I was pretty darn devoted to the game, both in my playing days and my years coaching. The basketball season started in the late Fall and ran until late Winter or early Spring if you were lucky. You might run a little camp during the summer, but most state associations were pretty restrictive about letting coaches overload their kids' time in the off-season with activities. Somewhere along the way, the door opened a crack to more, and then more interaction between players and coaches. One day I woke up to the idea that to compete with other schools I had to run Fall leagues, Spring leagues, Summer leagues, Peewee programs, etc. I was competing against coaches who had their squads playing 50-90 games in the off-season.
I remember well a kid I had who loved the outdoors and the start of basketball practice coincided with an important time in their family tradition as far as deer camp and so on was concerned. This was before I had kids old enough where I was involved in the same activities, and it's funny how once you have kids and experience certain things you look at things differently. I let the kid know how disappointed I was in him that he was going to miss the first few practices and how he was being selfish with regard to his team. That was about all there was to it. He played and he'd miss a Saturday practice here and there and I'd be aggravated each time.
I quit coaching after awhile because I had kids I wanted to take hunting when they were supposed to be at practice and because I wanted them to go swimming during the summers, maybe play a little baseball, or sometimes lay around all day reading. When I was coaching I wished I was taking my kids fishing and when I was fishing with my kids I was worried about the other fella' who was coaching his kids. So I quit.
I coached basketball for many years. I coached in Alaska, Colorado and Missouri and I really enjoyed it. There was a time when I thought I was pretty darn devoted to the game, both in my playing days and my years coaching. The basketball season started in the late Fall and ran until late Winter or early Spring if you were lucky. You might run a little camp during the summer, but most state associations were pretty restrictive about letting coaches overload their kids' time in the off-season with activities. Somewhere along the way, the door opened a crack to more, and then more interaction between players and coaches. One day I woke up to the idea that to compete with other schools I had to run Fall leagues, Spring leagues, Summer leagues, Peewee programs, etc. I was competing against coaches who had their squads playing 50-90 games in the off-season.
I remember well a kid I had who loved the outdoors and the start of basketball practice coincided with an important time in their family tradition as far as deer camp and so on was concerned. This was before I had kids old enough where I was involved in the same activities, and it's funny how once you have kids and experience certain things you look at things differently. I let the kid know how disappointed I was in him that he was going to miss the first few practices and how he was being selfish with regard to his team. That was about all there was to it. He played and he'd miss a Saturday practice here and there and I'd be aggravated each time.
I quit coaching after awhile because I had kids I wanted to take hunting when they were supposed to be at practice and because I wanted them to go swimming during the summers, maybe play a little baseball, or sometimes lay around all day reading. When I was coaching I wished I was taking my kids fishing and when I was fishing with my kids I was worried about the other fella' who was coaching his kids. So I quit.
It's funny. I read this after deliberating over a weekend winter camping trip. Some friends had arranged a cabin in the Adirondack High Peaks and invited me. This is the kind of thing I love. But I found myself coming up with all kinds of excuses for why I couldn't or shouldn't go. It's weird how we get into the habit of derailing or limiting the things we actually love doing. The good news is that I've decided to go. I'll be skiing and trekking from Sunday until Tuesday afternoon. The cabin has a wood stove and kerosene lamps, so I don't even have to pack my heavy winter bag! It's not spring yet...
ReplyDelete