My boys have not been able to play church ball since last year. All the Chicago-area churches get teams together and the kids play basketball against each other. Well, last February was the last time they go to play before everything was put on hold.
Unfortunately, their season couldn’t start in the fall, so it’s an abbreviated season this spring. The boys have to wear masks while playing and the only people allowed in the games are the 2 refs, 2 people in charge of the scoreboard/keeping score, 2 coaches per team, and the players.
My husband is in charge of taking the boys to their games. I told him I wouldn’t mind driving them since we can’t watch them play and I’ll just read my book while I wait for the game to end. But he likes this time in the car with the boys too.
The game starts at 5:45 pm and Pete is there by 5:00. I get a text saying, I’m in!
What? How? They said no parents!
I snuck in saying I’m a coach. Then guy in charge tells Coach Bill you have too many coaches. As I’m leaving the gym, the referee says ‘Where are you going? Sit down.’ and so I’m sitting at the end of the players’ bench. I’m not cheering so the guy in charge doesn’t see me.
The next 45 minutes consists of play-by-play texts. I’m grateful, but at the same time I can’t get anything done because I am anxiously awaiting the next text.
On Sunday the boys played at 4:45. I get a text at 4:25 I’m in! The play-by-play begins.
Losing 7-2. Not playing well. End of first, down 15-9.
This team has always been a tough team to beat.
We should be beating them. John’s fighting it, but shots not going in and they’re dropping 3s. 32-13.
Andrew makes a three. 40-36.
I get in a quick response: Come on boys! Then the texts come flooding through.
He sends a video of John scoring. 44-43.
If we had all our guys we would be able to switch our guys in, but only 7 showed up. 49-43.
John shoots. Scores. 49-45.
Turn overs are killing us.
Andrew steals the ball, we score.
John scores, now free throws.
56-52. Twenty-two seconds left. We have the ball.
Andrew shoots a 3.
57-55. Twelve seconds left. Our ball.
He sends a video of John. John tied the game. Overtime.
Two more videos sent and one final text: WE WON!!!!!
I know how much my boys love to play ball, but I know Pete loves watching them even more. I hope at the start of each game I get a text that says, I’m in!