Choosing

Note: I know I conveyed some information here that I've gone on about before but I didn't really write this to post here; it just ended up here.

So in 6th grade I was banned from the school library. We had the option of going out for recess or going to the library and my teacher felt I spent too many recesses in the library. In 10th grade I signed up for latin class; my small school didn’t have enough other kids sign up so they cancelled the class and the only other thing that fit in my schedule was gym. I got a D at Christmas and my parents were furious (not at me but that I had to take a class I was obviously hopeless in). In the end, I finished the year with a B+ because I got 100 percent in the “health” portion of the grade. I state this just to put everything in context. I am not an athlete. Please stop laughing. I always wanted to be an athlete (I still do but I really am hopeless). I had this romantic notion of how everything was easy for them. My son has opened my eyes to the reality.

DS was born an athlete. His first word was Ball or rather Ba, since he was almost three before he actually finished a word when he said it. There is nothing (save swimming) that I’ve seen him try and not be insanely good at. He’s a little frustrating to watch (especially if you’re his older sister trying to play the same sport). He’s also a little awe inspiring. One day he might accomplish something in the sports world… or maybe not. The one thing I’ve learned being the Mom of a mini gifted athlete is that there are A LOT of other mini gifted athletes out there. As special as he is to us; he’s not so special in the general scheme of things. Still there are choices we have to make with him and for him.

Some of the choices are a little bizarre to be making at eight. I bet Deion Sanders or Bo Jackson’s mother’s never had to look at their eight year old and tell them that they NEEDED to pick a sport. That’s the conversation I had with Sam yesterday. He needs to pick a sport… at eight. Nuts. In this world of high, stronger, faster sports that used to have a season and then ended so other sports could be played doesn't exist anymore.

We decided earlier this summer to let Sam tryout for a travel hockey team – seemed an innocuous decision at the time. Soccer ends 19 August. Hockey starts 1 September. We should be good no? No. This summer he’s played on a specially selected “elite” soccer team. It was an experiment and the boys on this team (and their sister team) have exceeded all expectations. His coach sent out a notice this week that the club has decided to create an academy that will keep the boys training all winter – two training sessions a week and a game. That’s a good amount of soccer over the winter and I know it makes a difference in the long run. He would have a blast. If he chooses not to participate, it will put him well behind his team mates next summer and could make the difference in him continuing with his team or having to drop down a level. So yes, let’s do it. Ummm…. hockey?

IF he makes the travel team (and I don’t know why he wouldn’t but you never know – remember he’s not as special as I think he is) we’re probably looking at two or three training sessions a week and a game. Counting days on my fingers – it MIGHT work. Physically he could handle it. Heck – he would thrive on such a schedule (his doctor has recommended we keep him as active as possible; this certainly fills that prescription). Depending on when those sessions were. Do we know? Nope. Not for hockey. Not for soccer. I already have a headache. He’s only 8.

Yesterday I told him he would have to chose – if not this year then next. He pointed out how much he liked to play both sports. I told him he could still play the sport he didn’t pick just not at an elite level. He got very quiet.