A wise man once said, "If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball."

Unless I gave birth to you, this statement generally rings true.

Welcome to The Diecinueve: Modest Tales of the Athletically Disinterested Daughter.

04 January 2011

If you're wondering what happened to the soccer season...

It was, oddly, successful. Little J's team lost only one game in one of the greatest comeback seasons of all time. Coach Daddy worked those little girls half to death, but they made one heckuva team (once we were allowed to bring in a third grader as a ringer). Jenna's aptitude for soccer improved slightly, as did her stamina.

Her attitude, however, remained somewhat unimpressed by soccer as a whole. After the first two practices, Jenna retired. She decided that soccer was not for her, and while Coach Daddy was disappointed, he nonetheless didn't so much mind the distractions leaving his practices. Jenna has the propensity to...well...to be a really terrible influence on the other kidlets. I mean this in the best of all possible ways.

Kids are like dominoes, you see. When one is unable to pay attention, so go the others. The center cannot hold.

The three subsequent practices in which Jenna did not participate, were quite successful and valuable to the team as a whole; however, game day approached and Coach Daddy found himself a player short. In an attempt to appeal to Jenna's altruistic side, I asked her if, as a favor, she could, perhaps, dress out and sit on the bench and go into the game in the event that some of her friends got tired and needed a break. As this type of "building up" usually works well with Jenna, she complied (as a side note, these things get a tad Michael Corleone sometimes with her - "one day I may call on you for a favor...").

In a performance that I can only describe as Farvesque, my child - my completely non-motor skilled child - put on a show the likes of which almost killed Coach Daddy dead on the field. Out of nowhere, Jenna channeled Brandy Chastain or some other fabulous soccer player and blocked two goals from the opposition. She also had the assist on our team's only goal of the day.

Seriously folks, it was the wildest thing I had ever witnessed. If someone had told me that morning that Jenna would do that, I would have laughed and laughed and laughed and told that someone that I had never, ever been acquainted with that level of mistaken before. And I would have eaten a whole elephant full of crow.

She was that good. For that very brief day in early Autumn, my Jenna was...she was...well, my Jenna was an athlete.

And it felt good.

It felt new and strange and surprising, but it felt good.

And though the athleticism was brief, Coach Daddy and I both saw it. It has renewed our hope for the upcoming basketball season.

The rest of the soccer season was as you might expect. Disciplinarily speaking, first and second grade girls are just crazy. They have a brief window in which you can reach them, but once your time limit is up you'd better be prepared to watch twelve little girls playing in the mud, running as if they were horses, and picking flowers instead of running any manner of drill. Coach Daddy's stress levels were somewhat erratic for much of the Autumn. They have since evened out, and Jenna has bequeathed her cleats to her little sister. She's gone into retirement again, folks...

We've heard that story before though...

In the meantime, basketball season is starting up soon and I cannot wait to journal the season's high points and low points with you, right here, at The Diecinueve.

Until then, may you keep all your balls in the air unless they belong on the ground.

14 August 2010

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

School starts next Wednesday.

Soccer's a comin'...

There's just no stopping that train. Coach Daddy is psyched for a new season and Jenna is, well...

I'll be honest. She's nonplussed.

Our social experiment this Fall consists of evaluating Jenna's athletic apathy when juxtaposed with her little sister's involvement in same endeavor on same team.

I have a feeling that we are getting ready to throw all 'non-competitive' sporting events right out the window. Even the least interested athlete becomes interested in something when competing against a sibling. It doesn't take Freud to tell you that.

In the meantime? Coach Daddy and I are basking in the final three or four days of summer vacation (read: keeping Jenna and The Hannimal from maiming each other until they become the responsibility of teachers for the majority of the daytime hours).

On the record though? If summer vacay is any indication, Jenna needs to work on her defense...in general. The Hannimal is dishing out a lot these days. Coach Daddy is excited to see that enthusiasm on the field as opposed to at the dinner table where it is ill-placed.

Stay tuned for MLS light - the soccer equivalent of MGD 64. If you've wasted money on MGD 64, you know exactly what I'm talking about. If you haven't? You're a smarter cookie than I.

08 July 2010

It's been awhile...

But after basketball season, we had Field Day. It was months ago, but I've only been able to think about it recently. It was a hard day, and it took its toll on both mother and child. There were several events held that day and I am happy to report that there were no impromtu visits to the hospital that day. No injuries.

The thing about injuries is this (and, in a way, I am grateful): It's super hard to sustain an injury at Field Day whilst not actively participating in any of the typical events. The morning of the big day, we loaded up the little one with sunscreen and potassium in order to give her an edge against the heat. We laced up the shoes, braided the hair, and set off.

The Hannimal and I arrived right after the softball throw was complete (it was the only event that I missed) and saw a kid being hauled away in tears with some ice on his head. To my great relief, my little sportstress was not the cause of this debacle. As a matter of fact, as I found out later, the ball she threw did not come close to hitting a child...and in all actuality, to say that the ball was "thrown" by her is really a misnomer. Her teacher told me that this event was not Jenna's best. But no worries - we had many more events to go.

However, after being relieved that Jenna did not hit the kid in the head with the ball, I realized that Jenna was very upset because she did not throw the ball very far. It was a strange moment for me, because it actually seemed as if she cared about being competitive. I was sad for her, yet elated in a way because I thought, perhaps, this might be the catalyst by which to garner some athletic interest.

You see where this is going, right?

Next up was the relay race, the 30 yard dash, and the long jump. The relay race was a complete disaster. I believe I've mentioned before that Jenna's love for running is rather non-existent. She walked it. She started out running; however, they were running in groups of five, and the four went ahead of her so fast that she just decided to walk. It was awesome.

As far as the next event is concerned, we can call it a "dash" all we want, but there was no dashing. There was very little that could be considered walking quickly; however, there was much that could be called drudgery and, perhaps, slow motion. The girl just wasn't feeling it.

After the first three events, we were ready for lunch. The littlest sportstress was overcome with competing in this event. She had a hot dog, a bag of chips, two bags of cookies, and a sprite. The girl just needed some fuel, that's all. So, while she was carb loading in preparation for the last event of the day, The Hannimal and I sat with her and then were very surprised to see Coach Daddy arrive for a pep talk! It was in the cards. Jenna was primed for the long jump. She's all leg, so we were fairly confident that this might just be her event.

4'3"

Not bad. Not bad, indeed.

Even the judges were impressed. Wait. That's not right.

The judges were using positive reinforcement to stop her from playing in the sand. It seems that sand is a very powerful force to a six year old. In the same way that women, once a month, are drawn to cheesecake like a moth to a flame, a large pile of sand is simply irresistible and renders children deaf to adults trying to lure them out. It cannot be done.

That's not entirely true. Mothers know that there exists on this planet only one force stronger than the pull of sand.

As Jenna explained her sadness at not having won an event to me, I explained to her about my Field Day days. It seems that, as a child, my athleticism was similar to Jenna's. I was generally average - not noteworthy; however, there was one event in which I received a blue ribbon every single year. And I was pretty sure that the last event of the day would not only be Jenna's blue ribbon event, but that she would have the fire in her belly necessary to achieve mightily.

That event, ladies and gentleman, is The Snowcone Challenge.

She came, she saw, she conquered.

That snowcone didn't stand a chance with my baby.

Until next time, always remember, "One man's relay race is another girl's snowcone."

19 April 2010

The end of the season...

Though it was a short and very non-competitive season, Jenna finished up with her usual style and panache. The last game was played against her own teammates as there were not enough kidlets present to play for the other team, so a couple got transferred. Luckily, it wasn't like Dodgeball in High School where the captains had to pick the ones to come over to the other team. That could have been bad.

The worst part about this situation is the fact that they were all wearing the same color uniforms, so the game was truly a disaster of epic proportions. By the time the little ones ran down the court each time they had forgotten which kid was on which team. It was anarchy. I should also admit here that I forgot which kid was on which team as well because The Hannimal was busy with the fire alarm on the gymnasium door. All of these things preclude me from having a truly detailed report on this outing.

I will say that this game lasted forever. I have no idea who the timekeeper was, but it became increasingly obvious that he/she needed a new watch because I know those kids ran up and down that court without scoring for no fewer than 45 minutes. It really doesn't sound like a lot of time, but trust me --- if you were there, you would understand. It seemed like days.

The highlight of the game was Jenna's truly being convinced that the pizza party was right after the game. She came over to where I was sitting and informed me that she needed to stop playing in the game because her stomach was hurting and she wanted to be able to eat pizza at the party. I told her that the party was in four days.

Jenna, true to form, did not believe me and so the next time she ran down the court while her teammates were playing basketball, Jenna left the action in order to verify with the coach that the party was, indeed, right after the game.

The look on the coach's face was, at once, disbelief, amusement, anger, and pity. It seems like a lot of emotion to be having at once, but if any person on earth can cause all of these reactions at once, it's my Jenna.

Her disappointment was palpable and truly affected the rest of her performance during the game. For the last 7 or so minutes (in mommy time, that's 4 hours), Jenna walked, nay sauntered up and down the court. Had I known that a lack of potential pizza could cause such disdain, I would never have believed it. To be sure, I would petition the FedEx Forum to shut down the Coletta's in an attempt to render the Tigers' future opponents practically immobile. She looked as if she had lost her best friend and was searching for her across a vast desert of thick mud. Regardless of the accuracy of my similes, she looked as if she was actually moving in slow motion.

I had no idea that the only reason she had been running all season was for pizza. Everything makes so much more sense now. It's as if a giant light has been shone on the entire season.

Jenna was searching for her moment. That one unattainable moment wherein she would find herself with a completion like no other...for Jay Gatsby, it was Daisy...for my Jenna, it was Pepperoni.

Who's to say which is more noble? At least Jenna eventually got Pepperoni whereas, Gatsby got shot by a madman after losing Daisy yet again.

It does make one wonder though.

Final score: Blue 10, Blue 2

And because Coach Daddy and I have no idea which team Jenna was on, it may have been a win or it may have been a loss. We will never know.

In our book, however, and as is generally the case with all sports of the non-competitive variety, all of the Blues are winners.

And my Jenna is no exception.

04 April 2010

In an odd turn of events...

Team Maroon is on a two game winning streak. Things have happened so quickly around here what with the endorsements and all that I haven't had a chance to update in awhile. My sincere apologies to all.

In all seriousness, Jenna's team has really turned around in the past few weeks. I have witnessed dribbling, passing, shooting and no fewer than three baskets attempted and made. Jenna has been kind enough (or distracted enough) to leave the cleaning lady alone and she has only been averaging one full on 'lay down at center court' move per game - down from 3.5 which was her average early on in the season. "Baby steps," I repeat to myself. "Baby steps."

Other colloquial phrases that are commonly used this season include, but are not limited to:

Slow and steady wins the race.
Patience is a virtue.
Give a man a fish and something something something.
Why aren't women made with builds capable of concealing a flask?


At any rate, Jenna's shooting is absolutely horrifying, but she does not know this nor would this knowledge stop her from trying. She has a tendency to throw the ball straight up - - - from wherever she might be in relation to the basket. She has hit two coaches at center court...twice. However, in her defense, the coaches should really pay more attention to a six year old with questionable motor skills weilding a basketball.

My favorite of her new basketball tactics is to announce where she is going to pass the ball. Columbo, she's not:

MIKAYLA!! CATCH!!!!!!!!!!

Sadly, nine times out of ten, Jenna has already thrown the ball straight up into the air before she has gotten the announcement off her chest. As one can imagine, I spend much of my time watching the game with my hands covering my eyes. Sometimes, I'm scared to look and I will admit, it alters the amount of information that I can correctly relay.

Having said all of this, Jenna's running has improved by a mile. She is super fast now that she has regressed to once again, running like a horse.

I forgot - the other colloquialism often running through my head during games:

You've got two coconuts and you're banging them together...

Which would be something...because then I could have a pina colada - if I could find a place to hide my flask.

Tuesday's match-up features a fiercely competitive navy blue team trying to break our winning streak. One of Navy's team members cries a lot, so we may have an advantage there; however, Jenna is a very sensitive sort and one cannot rule out the possibility of this being a ploy on the other team's part to take out one of our team members.

Then again, the one that cries might just be crying in anticipation of getting the stew knocked out of her by one of Jenna's wayward shot attempts. I doubt Jenna could throw the basketball into the Grand Canyon.

It isn't if you win or lose, it's how you play the game...

I saved that one for the last, because I'm not entirely sure if that makes me feel better or worse...

14 March 2010

Mid-Season break is over...

For some reason, Jenna's team played three games and then had three gamedays off for Spring Break. All things being equal, I think they should have practiced every day during Spring Break because "Breaking" is something at which Jenna, especially, is already familiar. At our last game, we took on the Navys. The Navy Blues were a force to be reckoned with and after the first five minutes, it became increasingly evident that what both teams lacked in skill, both made up for in sheer grit.

In the thirty minute practice prior to the matchup, Jenna hit the coach in the head with the basketball when a shot went awry. That is to say, she threw the ball straight into the air, high, and the coach was caught unawares. Practice went on and the coach decided from that moment forward that she would be more captivated by her surroundings on the high probability of facial laceration.

My intent with this entry was to list the high points of the basketball game; however, there were none. Jenna played in her usual style of independent play - in lay terms, she was generally at the opposite end of the court from the one she should have been at. That being said, Jenna did emerge as quite the defensive force during this outing.

The coach explained the defensive stance to Jenna and she did a remarkable job at blocking her opponent. Imagine, if you will, a skilled mime doing the part of climbing out of the invisible box. Or, if that doesn't work for you, imagine a dog or a cat looking at himself in the mirror. Jenna perfectly mirrored the moves of whichever opponent had the ball.

The girl may not be able to shoot and she may not have any idea what to do with a basketball, but she may have a brilliant future in Pantomime. If you see her in Central Park, give her a couple of bucks, will you? Because I'm fairly confident that her basketball scholarship is going to fall through.

Final Score:

Navy Blue 2, Maroon, 2.

Stay tuned for tomorrow's updatee when Maroon takes on Royal Blue in a cage match.

28 February 2010

Maroon v. Purple

Well, first, I would be remiss if I didn't call out ESPN for not posting the full results from Friday night's game on its Bottomline. It seems to me that ESPN must be getting incomplete data from the scores from around the nation. Thank goodness, I have this medium to post full results. I would hate for any scouts to miss out on Jenna's achievements.

In an odd turn of luck, the cleaning lady happened through the gymnasium during practice instead of during the game. I would also like to add that I hope, beyond all hope, that she is, indeed, Hispanic because Jenna once again made a beeline for her; however, this time, she said "Hola, Miss Cleaning Lady. Como estas?" The Cleaning Lady had a look on her face that I recognized as the same one that very famous people give stalkers.

During practice, there were a few (ok, two) moments that led me to believe that our team might, indeed, be a legitimate contender in non-competitive basketball. Jenna hit the rim once and hit the backboard once...both times with the ball, which is a glorious feeling! Unfortuntately, she also threw the ball straight up into the air the other 12 times she ran the same drill.

Our major obstacle this week was with catching the ball. Jenna has an uncanny ability to not pay attention in general; however, that ability is magnified by about 1000 times when an object is being passed to/thrown at her. I use both phrases because at times it is unclear as to the intent of the thrower as many of them are lacking in skills albeit to a lesser degree than Jenna, yet still to a larger degree than most normally developed six year olds. Jenna got hit in the face once and in the shoulder once. If she had even been following the game remotely - even in her periphery - she would not have gotten hit in the face with the ball. I don't know what she was looking at, but it wasn't anything involving basketball.

The bright spot of the game when Jenna's laziness and lack of interest produced a new defensive strategy that I'm sure will be picked up by all non-competitive coaches and their players. Keep in mind only three players are playing at a time while I try to describe the new play invented by my daughter that I have decided to call Malaise (due primarily to the lack of ease that I felt):

Purple scores a basket leaving Maroon to take the ball up the court. Jenna decides that it would be better for the team if she just stays behind underneath Purple's basket on the off chance that Purple comes back that way (I can only assume this is what she was thinking - otherwise, it's just too depressing). So her two other teammates run down on offense while Jenna is doing her impersonation of Feste the Clown (does anyone know where I can buy the child a lyre to go with her sneakers?). Go figure Purple steals the ball from Maroon and brings the ball back down. Jenna is primed for optimal defense, right? At the very least she has proximity on her side.

Had she any idea that a) the other team would be coming back in her general direction, or that b) she was about to be faced with the spoils of her own design (read: 3 on 1 with her being the 1), it is entirely plausible that her master plan would have been successful. As it stands, however:

Purple 10, Maroon 4

In the wise words of Farmer Fran, "We live to play another day."