It’s been nearly 10 years in the making, but I’ve finally made it. I finally brought one of those handy dandy seat cushions to a game. You’d think I’d know better. After all, every Grandparent who ever attended any grandchild’s sporting event owns at least two or three. They even would offer me one, but I’d decline, suffering the wrath of my bleacher butt.
And so it goes. The first edition of bleacherbutt. You all know who you are, you are the dedicated, or not so perhaps dedicated, parents of children who relish in extracurricular activities, focused on the world of sports. Yes, my dear friends, you know who you are, and we all share a dream, that our child will outgrow his need for competitive sport.
Where would that leave us? That’s why we have multiple children, sanctioned perfectly three years and 2 months apart in order to generate at least 20 years of sporting events. Whether it’s good fortune or not, I have two children, ages 13 and 6. The 13 year old is the sport equivalent to 3 children, whereas the 6 year old would much prefer painting over perfunctory athletics. (Though, I do believe she has athletic prowess, however, we have not uncovered it yet)
That’s what we parents do, watch with great intent while our little ones try to win a game. When my son was 4 he started tee-ball. Now 4 is just crazy, as I didn’t start any sports until after I was 6. But, as I came to find out, we were actually late to the game (pun intended). Most of his friends had started soccer at age 3. They were the Brewers. Now, my son has a bit of an advantage. His father, the head baseball coach at a local university, placed a bat in his hand at age two months. I have to admit, he does have a natural swing. (My daughter on the other hand has no clue on how to swing a bat!)
The T-ball league was great. Each team consisted of 15 players, all who got to bat, all got to be in the field, at the same time, and no outs counted, unless you played the Brewers. These guys could turn double plays! They were amazing, and they were only 4. My son and his friends who understood the game of baseball were furious when they made their three outs, and had to stay until everyone batted. It was confusion on both sides.
What are we teaching them? My husband eventually boycotted the games, as I sat there, with my blanket in the cold New England spring. I wished I had that bleacher cushion back then. Nine years ago this all began. Along with baseball we added hockey at age 5. That’s when the real fan in me was exposed. I taped all of his first year. It’s somewhere on some camcorder tape in the house. That was the last year I ever taped a hockey game.
So, what is bleacherbutt all about? It’s about the dedication parents put into the games their children play. It’s about how fanatical we parents get when we’re at a game. It’s about how adults get lost in the competitive spirit of the game, and lose sight of what its all about. It’s about a mother who goes every Monday to get her son’s skates sharpened at the same place week after week. It’s about car pools and “stinky hockey boys”. It’s about making life work around your kids sporting event. It could be about you. It could be about your parents who also join you in the stands week after week.
Welcome. Welcome to bleacherbutt. Join me, share your stories.