thisnewday

My grandson Jason is at his mom's again this weekend. But I did see him early this morning due to a text message that lit up my phone about 10 minutes after I'd gotten up. It said, "Poppa, can you bring me some clean cloths?"

Me: What kind of cloths? Dish cloths, cleaning cloths, face cloths, what?

Him: What ru talking about?

Me: I r talking about how a 7th grader should know the difference between "clothes" and "cloths."

Him: Oh. Well can you bring them?

Me: And how a 7th grader should've told me to bring this stuff last night when I drove all the way out to his mom's house to take him to his soccer game.

Him: OK I get it.

Me: And how texting shorthand is killing the English language. Even American English.

Him: OK, OK.

[a pause in the exchange; a moment of digital silence]

Me: Alright, I'll bring them.

Him: Thanks.

When I got there, it was obvious that he was the only one who was up. In the household. Or the neighborhood. Maybe on this side of the freakin' Canadian border.

Even so, I guess I should feel lucky that he still feels that he can call on me for stuff like this.

And I guess I do...

LPK
LiveJournal
2.28.2016

The grandson and his Henninger Black Knights modified soccer team took on the Fayetteville-Manlius Hornets in their home opener on Friday at Huntington School. F-M scored first but the Knights continuously pressured their opponent's goal and had a number of shots that were either slightly high, slightly wide, or stopped by the goalie.

About midway through the first half, the second squad was subbed-in for Henninger and they immediately scored two quick goals which obviously stunned the visitors and their fans. As they had earlier, the Knights kept up the pressure on both offense and defense and the half ended with the score Henninger 2, F-M 1.

Henninger opened the second half with their starters back on the field and this time they scored to make it a 3-1 game. Again, at midway through the half, the second squad came in for Henninger. This time they held their own but had some lapses, on both offense and defense, which could've been game-changers if siezed-on by the visitors.

With control of the game now hotly contested in its final minutes, the starters were sent back in to finish the half and bring home the 3-1 victory.

All things considered, it was a pretty good game. This team, which has been together for barely three weeks, is obviously a work in progress. And with the outdoor soccer season so compressed, they're going to have to develop quickly. Next week, they have three games, two of them away. After that, they have two games a week for each of the remaining three weeks of the season.

Jason did well, was called out by the coach for a great assist on the second-half goal, and after the game we were stopped by one of the F-M moms who complimented Jason and the team on their amazing skills. As usual, he was too embarassed to respond, so I said "thanks" on his behalf. She obviously read the situation and we both laughed.

Hopefully, as these kids get used to playing as a team, learn each other's skills and tendencies, we'll have some success out on the road where we'll be next week vs. Auburn and West Genesee. There's also a chance that Jason and Cyrus will meet up with another of their SDA teammates at West Genny, which should be interesting...

LPK
LiveJournal
9.26.2015 (a)

This morning, I got up at 6 AM, made coffee, took my meds, got myself dressed, and then made sure that the grandson responded to the cheery wake-up call he'd installed on his cell phone to get him up on school days.

"Get up, get dressed, eat breakfast, no, not that sugary crap your dad buys for himself and your little brother, check your book bag, pack your soccer bag, here, try on last year's compression shorts to see if they still fit, oh, they don't, well, I guess that tells me what I'm doing this morning." That was how the basically one-sided conversation went, punctuated by periodic groans from the unenthused listener.

Then, at 7:20, we were out the door and, after dropping him off at Huntington K-8 School, I jumped on the highway and headed east of the city for Walmart and Target.

Near the end of the summer, as things were winding down with his SDA club team, we decided to have him try out for his school's modified (7th and 8th grades) boy's soccer team. This would be Jason's first experience with a school sports team and, because of our late decision, we had to jump through some hoops (or a certain backward-facing body orifice) to make it happen.

At least that's what the folks in the school office had led us to believe. After we'd shredded our previously-made plans, and thereby introduced further chaos into our already dysfunctional lives, we were assured by his coaches that none of that had really been necessary. Still, it was obvious that other challenges lay directly ahead, albeit of an athletic nature.

Due to budget problems which had arisen several years ago, when the state's newly-elected governor took the unprecedented step of attempting to balance the budget, a substantial chunk of the state's aid to New York's cash-strapped cities had been withheld and local school districts had, in turn, reduced funding for sports and other extra-curriculars.

To avoid eliminating sports altogether, the Syracuse city schools responded by dividing the district into east and west and the several middle schools in each half of the city were formed into combined teams for the two areas. Which meant that on our side of town three middle schools, Grant, Huntington, and Lincoln, would send 7th and 8th graders to try out for a single boy's modified soccer team. In all, 52 kids showed up to try out for 22 positions.

The result being that many kids, among them the most needy, would be effectively deprived of any reasonable hope of participation. In addition, Syracuse is now host to a large and growing immigrant population, many of whom come from countries where soccer is the only sport available to kids. And, while I'm all for being a gracious and welcoming host, in this traditional land of opportunity, I think we need to balance our generosity to others with our ability to provide for our own. The expression, "Charity begins at home" comes to mind here.

Anyway, despite Jason's fairly long and intensive involvement with the sport, it was gonna be a challenge. And then, two days into the tryouts, he got sick and missed the next two days. Jeeeez! So I emailed one of the coaches, explained our caution, vis-a-vis the asthma, and begged for a stay of execution. Granted. Whew! (And he had made the cut anyway.)

For the next two days, he performed really well, good speed, good ball handling, good aggresiveness on defense. But on the second afternoon, when I stopped by to pick him up, I saw him bent over on the sidelines looking like he was trying to shake something off. An effing groin pull. WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY? Was it because I'd said that Luis Suarez was lower than whale poop for trying to bite off another guy's ear in the World Cup? C'mon, soccer gods, he was picked up by Barcelona after that, became a vegetarian, and rehabilitated his career. No harm, no foul, right?

Apparently, the gods don't listen to whiners because Jason still missed another day. Which necessitated another supplication by email, the promise that we'd again rest him over the weekend, and that we'd make every effort to have him back by Monday, ready to play. Which, somehow, he was. And made the final cut for the team. Along with 5 out of the original 12 from his school. Thank you, soccer gods. (Although, for the record, I still think Luis Suarez is a chump.)

For two more days, he battled to move up from the "B" team to the "A" team. And did that, as well. (I'm pretty sure that if he hadn't missed 3 out of the first 7 days that the team was together, he'd have been "A" team from day one.)

So yesterday was uniform day and, as they were being handed out, travel instructions were also given for today's scrimmage against the west side team on their home turf over in the The Valley. In a way, it'll be a sort of homecoming for me because it's at the school where I used to take our oldest daughters for indoor swimming, almost 40 years ago.

Anyway, I came up empty at Walmart--they'd totally turned over their seasonal stock which, I suppose, could reasonably include soccer shorts, but had replaced most of their teen athletic gear with everyday wear for elementary and pre-school kids. So, on to Target where I found Jason's compression shorts and the black outer shorts to match his uniform shirt.

All of which are now laundered, folded, and placed in his 90-pound soccer bag which, I'm convinced, is what actually cause his groin injury. Right now, it's strapped to a hand truck, ready to roll out the door for his first game as a scholastic modified soccer player...

LPK
LiveJournal
9.23.2015 

Last night, my grandson had the best soccer practice he's had since joining his new team, Fusion Pegasus. The Fusion teams are a group of so-called "club teams" which play out of the Jones Rd. facility of the Family Sports Center near Baldwinsville, NY.

He joined the team a little over three weeks ago, after a successful 10-week tryout with a new outdoor league which FSC started at the beginning of the summer to give club team kids, and others, a chance to continue playing over the summer.

I'd been on his case, recently, because he seemed to be "dogging it" a bit once he got comfortable with his summer team, the Portland Timbers. He'd had a great first game with them and then seemed to be letting himself be out-worked in practices and out-played in games.

Granted, it was a little difficult to decide exactly what was going on with him since the level of competition was significantly higher and he seemed a little intimidated by that. Still, one fairly obvious thing seemed to be the lack of effort at practice.

(Another factor, quite honestly, was a lack of quality, consistency, and basic continuity, in the coaching. He had several different coaches for what they call "skills training," over the summer, and he seldom had the same coach for games as he'd had for skills training earlier in the week.)

But I figured that something was up when the manager of the facility coached Jason's last practice and seemed to be giving him some special attention and a somewhat appraising look-over to which Jason, thankfully, responded well. Then, after the final game, which the head guy also coached, he came over to the sidelines to discuss Jason's placement on a regular team for the coming year.

Afterward, Jason and I had a heart-to-heart about the kind of effort and competitive drive it was going to take to be successful at this level and how I wasn't going to ask his grandma to put in the extra hours at work if he wasn't going to work at practice and be competitive in games.

And he immediately responded that this was what he wanted to do, rather than go back to his Eastwood team where the emphasis was solely on the fun rather than personal development. He said, and I quote, "I really want the challenge."

Anyway, he was matched up in last night's practice with a kid who was about a head taller and 20 pounds heavier for one of the one-on-one drills that they use in their skills training. And although he was beaten in the first three go-arounds, he seemed to be gaining ground with each one.

On the fourth try, he finally won and continued to win through the next four. Which left the bigger kid thoroughly PO'd by the end of it. He also paid attention to instructions, showed good effort in the drills, and didn't fool around between them.

But the icing on the cake came after we had rushed home so that he could go to his K-8 open house with his dad. Jason is in what's called an "inclusion" class, which means he's with kids who have developmental or learning disabilities, and the teacher told his dad that every day he helps a little boy in the class who appears to have some pretty profound disabilities.

Yeah, I know, what a kid. We just hope and pray that he'll be able to stay on track, through all of the challenges in his own life, toward something that's productive, fulfilling, and worthy of the talents we've always felt he has...

LPK
LiveJournal
9.21.2012

It was kind of fun standing in the crowd of parents, grandparents and others, waiting for the kids to burst out of the building after their first day of school.

Jason reported that he liked his new teacher and his new class. We'll see how that holds up over the course of the school year. He also said that he was one of only two or three in his class who turned in the completed packet of summer homework and that his teacher told him she was pleased that he had done so. Yesss!

Gotta go make the little kid's lunch for day 2!

LPK
LiveJournal
9.8.2011

Two summers ago, I bought a USKids hybrid golf club at Walmart for my grandson Jason. He was six years old then, and needed something to do between the end of spring soccer and Little League and the beginning of school in the fall. I also bought him a bag of wooden tees and a pack of foam-core practice balls. Unlike the whiffle-style practice balls I remember seeing when I was a kid, you can actually drive the foam-core ones reasonably straight and far and they're still not dense enough to damage anything they hit.

At first, we tried teeing-up behind the house, but the yard is small and fenced in on all sides and we kept losing the balls. So then we moved out front. The front lawn is a postage stamp-sized mound of grass between the sidewalk and front porch but there's enough room to swing a golf club if there's no one on the sidewalk. And the neighbors' front lawns offer a half-block fairway in either direction, so that was where we ended up playing.

From day one, the little kid had a vicious swing, probably due to the hours of batting practice we'd done with him for baseball. Only problem with that is that in baseball you step into the pitch and drive off the back leg for power. In golf, you keep both feet in place and develop power through the length of your swing. But he caught on quickly and, every so often, between outright misses and the ones that dribbled a few feet down the sidewalk, he'd smack one three or four houses down the street.

Until last winter, that was about the extent of our golf activities. Occasionally, we'd go over to Sunnycrest Park, where there's a city-owned nine-hole course, not to actually play the course but just to practice drives off the hill nearest our house. And he'd play an occasional round of Putt-Putt with his dad or Aunt Sarah.

But during the Christmas break we stayed overnight at the Turning Stone Casino Resort and decided to take a walk over to the Sports Dome where there are tennis courts, a handball court, and a two-tiered driving range and practice green for golf. And we decided that on our next visit we'd bring the hybrid and try the driving range.

I can't tell you how funny it is to see this skinny little fifty-pound kid driving balls eighty and ninety yards off a tee when the adults around him are struggling just to make contact with the ball. Of course, it's taken us a while to get to that point and consistency is something that all golfers must continuously work for but, since we've been going every week, that's come along too.

On one of our first trips to the range, Marty the club pro stopped by and, after chatting for a few minutes, took us down to the instructional area where he did a computer analysis of Jason's swing, gave him a Ping 9-iron that had been cut down to kid-size and fitted with a new grip, and told us about a fun-with-math website to help with the academic side of things. (Marty has an eight or nine year old of his own.)

Since then, we've added a USKids putter and, most recently, a USKids Ultra-Lite driver. The advantage of a pure driver is that it has the longest shaft length combined with lightest mass and is specifically designed for distance off the tee. And even though Jason's hybrid is a cross between the driver and an iron, some feel that the driver itself can be a bit tricky for beginners to master. (For one thing, the loft or angle of the striking face is a lot shallower than that of the hybrid or an iron.)

With that in mind, I warned Jason that his new driver might take some getting used to. I was still fumbling around in one of the bags of loaner clubs, stationed along the railing behind the driving range, when I happened to glance over at Jason. He had teed up his first ball, set his feet, and with no hesitation blasted it into the dome wall beyond the ninety-yard marker and about 10-15 feet off the floor.

All I could say was, "Gee, that must be a good sign."

LPK
LiveJournal
8.25.2011 (b)