Sunday, March 12, 2006
Melrose Basketball
She hasn't been able to sit up for long, but she rolls the ball back to her mom, grins, and claps. She's walking now, and rolling a bigger ball back to dad. We're not sure whether she's a righty or a lefty, but it doesn't matter because she's still smiling.
The Fisher-Price basket keeps her busy, with the tiny orange basketball. The basket even rings when the little ball goes through the hoop.
She's growing up now, playing rough with the little boys in the backyard, and sometimes even wins the races to the fence at the end of the yard and back.
School is fun, but not as good as recess. She can almost reach the basket with the red 'jelly' ball, and Dodge Ball isn't as much fun as basketball. She can't wait for Saturday, with the team T-shirt, and MBA. It's not pretty, ten little girls running in one direction, toward the ball. But it's fun, for her and her parents.
The games become more serious, and maybe she's not ready for the Travel Team. She cries, but she doesn't quit. She's getting taller and stronger, and she trades the two-handed shot for something better. Bouncing the basketball doesn't seem so strange, and the ball seems to find her more often. The games get faster, the girls get bigger.
She trades in Barbie for basketball. The basket seems closer. A free throw is a challenge, not an obstacle. She starts getting picked sooner in the pickup games, even when she plays with boys. "Can I go to the 'Y' to practice, Dad?"
She's on the Travel Team, going to the Woburn Y, Somerville, or Revere. The games become more physical. So does she. Sometimes the team wins, sometimes it loses, but she's still smiling.
She follows the rolling and bouncing ball along, now to AAU, not a good team, just another chance to play. As she grows, so does her confidence, and her ability. She's got two hands now.
No practice doesn't always mean a day off. The jog takes her along Lebanon, or Emerson, or Main Street, to the high school, where the 'Stadiums' provide some opposition. Those stairs never seem to give in. Neither does she.
She's still getting better, and playing in high school. Springtime means warmer weather, and invitations to play for a better team. Travel includes practice. She's making new friends, and the games could be in Connecticut, Rhode Island, Virginia, or Disney World. All the girls are good players now, bigger, faster, stronger, and tougher.
The team has come together, with girls from the East side and the Highlands, and a special girl from Boston. The coaches encourage them, and the girls have become accustomed to the bright lights and the elbows. The fans come to Stoneham, and Wilmington, and Lowell to support the Lady Raiders. Little girls come up to them, just looking for a sign of acknowledgement as their pilgrimmage begins.
And tomorrow, the little girls will follow the rolling ball to Boston Garden. She's still rolling the ball, smiling, and clapping. The uniform jerseys say 'Melrose', but the purposeful ones say, 'Impossible is Nothing'.
The Fisher-Price basket keeps her busy, with the tiny orange basketball. The basket even rings when the little ball goes through the hoop.
She's growing up now, playing rough with the little boys in the backyard, and sometimes even wins the races to the fence at the end of the yard and back.
School is fun, but not as good as recess. She can almost reach the basket with the red 'jelly' ball, and Dodge Ball isn't as much fun as basketball. She can't wait for Saturday, with the team T-shirt, and MBA. It's not pretty, ten little girls running in one direction, toward the ball. But it's fun, for her and her parents.
The games become more serious, and maybe she's not ready for the Travel Team. She cries, but she doesn't quit. She's getting taller and stronger, and she trades the two-handed shot for something better. Bouncing the basketball doesn't seem so strange, and the ball seems to find her more often. The games get faster, the girls get bigger.
She trades in Barbie for basketball. The basket seems closer. A free throw is a challenge, not an obstacle. She starts getting picked sooner in the pickup games, even when she plays with boys. "Can I go to the 'Y' to practice, Dad?"
She's on the Travel Team, going to the Woburn Y, Somerville, or Revere. The games become more physical. So does she. Sometimes the team wins, sometimes it loses, but she's still smiling.
She follows the rolling and bouncing ball along, now to AAU, not a good team, just another chance to play. As she grows, so does her confidence, and her ability. She's got two hands now.
No practice doesn't always mean a day off. The jog takes her along Lebanon, or Emerson, or Main Street, to the high school, where the 'Stadiums' provide some opposition. Those stairs never seem to give in. Neither does she.
She's still getting better, and playing in high school. Springtime means warmer weather, and invitations to play for a better team. Travel includes practice. She's making new friends, and the games could be in Connecticut, Rhode Island, Virginia, or Disney World. All the girls are good players now, bigger, faster, stronger, and tougher.
The team has come together, with girls from the East side and the Highlands, and a special girl from Boston. The coaches encourage them, and the girls have become accustomed to the bright lights and the elbows. The fans come to Stoneham, and Wilmington, and Lowell to support the Lady Raiders. Little girls come up to them, just looking for a sign of acknowledgement as their pilgrimmage begins.
And tomorrow, the little girls will follow the rolling ball to Boston Garden. She's still rolling the ball, smiling, and clapping. The uniform jerseys say 'Melrose', but the purposeful ones say, 'Impossible is Nothing'.
// posted by Ron Sen, MD, FCCP @ 7:11 AM 
