Dear Upward Basketball,
I owe you an apology.
Growing up, you were the butt of many jokes. You were a punchline. I knew what you were, but did not understand you. I want to say sorry.
Now, I can see how invaluable you are to kids. I thank you, Upward Basketball. Let’s reflect on my growth.
I grew up in a competitive household. My parents were high school athletes who stayed in shape. My dad played one-on-one in the driveway against my brother and was unbeatable. He was the quarterback for side-yard football games, orchestrating plays out of thin air and literally laying the ball in his wide receiver children’s hands from any distance. My mom swam with my sister and me all summer long. Any time there was a ledge or a diving board into a pool, she was there doing a signature backflip or back dive. As a family, we biked, canoed, and hiked. We had a net in the back where the five of us would play badminton or volleyball. As we all got older and more skilled, it got ferocious out there. I can’t remember, looking back now as twenty-plus years have passed, if it was fun. I think it started out as fun. But then winning became the most important thing; Competitiveness a pillar of our family, a part of our family crest.
Segue to organized sports. My siblings and I were great athletes. We were. And we worked at it. We spent weekends and weeknights at the diamond, fielding grounders, running situations with someone on first and third, and always hitting, hitting, hitting. Practice does make perfect (when done perfectly). My sister and I were some of the first girls from our county to play club volleyball, now so regular. But “back then,” we traveled just under an hour twice a week to play and, during the winter months, drove to large cities and spent the weekend there in tournaments. But it paid off. As eighth graders, we worked out with the varsity high school team. I stuffed the senior middle hitter with a solo block. The next year, as freshmen, we contributed to a volleyball team that won the most regular season matches in school history. There were a lot of wins. There were even more losses.
Athletics were a huge part of our identity. And it was not just being an athlete, but being “the athlete” the one you wanted up to bat with a runner on third and two outs in the seventh; the one you set the ball to with the opponent one away from fifteen in the fifth game, you get it, the player with ice in his/her veins. Nowadays, it’s referred to as “the dog.” The athlete who has the grit, resolution, tenacity, and determination to bring your team to victory. That was us. The dog. Because of this, as a family, we shunned Upward sports. What possibly could be beneficial from a youth sports program where everyone got to play regardless of skill, where score wasn’t being kept, where everyone got a trophy for participating? At that time, we could not, would not understand.
Then, I became a mom.
And now, I want to personally apologize to all jokes that have been made on behalf of Upward Basketball.
Because now, I have a son. He is so wonderful. Hand him a carton of Legos and he can build a fleet of spaceships, rockets, and transit carriers. With paper and crayons he will draw and create the most masterful oceanscapes and dragons. He is expansive in vocabulary and imagination. He loves Harry Potter, Pokemon, and being a ninja. He does not, however, have “the dog.” At least not yet. He does have, thanks to moving to a new house with a basketball goal, a new interest in playing basketball. Enter Upward.
Upward Basketball was meant for kids like my son. It gives them exposure to the game. It is structured with practice time and game times. Above all, it is supportive. We went tonight for my son to get evaluated. The woman who he was working with talked to him because he was nervous. She made him laugh. As he went through the drills, she cheered for him. She gave him a high five at the end. My son ran over to me and asked if I had seen him shoot the baskets (not if he had made it). He said it was hard to dribble with his left hand and he would need to practice. He then asked if he could come back tomorrow to play again. When I said the league didn’t start for another month, he then went outside and started shooting baskets and working on his dribbling in our driveway. I rebounded. He practiced. He felt good about himself for trying his best, and he began working to get better. Upward gave him confidence in a sport he was just beginning. It was low stakes and friendly. It was perfect for us.
One last note to Upward. When I told my dad about his grandson playing Upward Basketball in the winter, he said, “That’s all kids need anyway: a place to play and have fun.” So, I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks. I know I surely have learned a lot myself.
