Mar 24, 2012 James Wilcox
Musings of a Kansas City Dad &Teacher
As One Door Closes, Another One Opens
The coach had been after my oldest son for a couple of weeks; asking, begging, pleading for him to play on her fourth- and fifth-grade boys’ volleyball team. He was hesitant though. He was already signed up to play soccer this spring and was planning on playing baseball this summer with his friends, and just wasn’t sure he had the time (or the desire) to pick up another sport, especially one he had never really played before. The coach stayed after him though, encouraging him to at least come to a couple of practices to see if he liked playing before he made his final decision. My wife teamed up with the coach and gave him some gentle nudges in the volleyball direction. A former high school state champion volleyball player, my wife had been encouraging my son to try the sports she love so much (between the coach and my wife, he didn’t really stand a chance). My son was still undecided when his summer baseball plans came crashing down (see “For the Love of the Game” to find out what happen to his baseball plans).
Now that baseball was out of the picture, my son quickly decided to give volleyball a chance. The coach was thrilled. My wife was thrilled. My son was nervous though. He had only ever played volleyball in gym class and he wasn’t really sure what to expect. He was also worried that he wouldn’t be any good. My wife wasn’t worried though and told him that he would be great because he is tall (which he gets from me), can jump (which he gets from his mother), and is quick (not sure where that came from). She pulled out the volleyball and started teaching him how to hit, pass, and serve. Her enthusiasm was contagious.
When it came time for him to attend his first practice, he was still nervous, but was more than willing to give it a try. When I picked him up after practice and asked him how it went, he said it was good. Although I peppered him with questions, trying to get more information out of him, he didn’t really say anything else about practice, just that “it was good.”
When I picked him up after the second practice and asked him the same question, I got the exact same answer and was starting to worry that he didn’t really want to play. That is until he learned over toward me and said, “Dad, I really like volleyball.”
Maybe he won’t miss baseball after all.