Basketball Tournament

On Saturday KoKo's 7-8 grade basketball team took part in a tournament in Ada. It was a blast. Of course, the fact that both the 7th and 8th grade teams went a combined 7-0 and, obviously, won the championships, might have had something to do with it.

Red Lake Falls has a pretty strong girl's basketball program from the elementary on up through varsity. Kristie used to have a direct hand in that since she used to volunteer coach 6th and 7th grade. But she chose not to do it this year since KoKo was in high school. Let me tell you - it's nice not trekking all over northern MN for weekend basketball tournaments. Have you ever sat through 8 hours of 5th and
6th grade basketball? It's not for the weak of heart.

But this was a treat. We could just sit back and cheer KoKo and her teammates on.

Whenever I do this, though, I always find myself monitoring what I do and say. When we go to the varsity games, we tend to hear some parents who do nothing but criticize the coaching. Others complain about the reffing all the time. Others just try to coach from the stands.

I try to stay out of all this mess. (I can't remember if I blogged about the RLF boys team playing the Sacred Heart team a few weeks ago, but their fans were horrendous. One guy almost ran out onto the court! Another chased after the officials after the game! During the JV game one concerned parent screamed, "For Christsake's call the travelling!" -- and this coming from a catholic school! I'm not kidding. Another old timer in the stand stood up and held his arms open every time the ref called a foul on them. Then he would wave his hands in disgust. Not being one to sit idle when such foolishness is on display, I tried to get a chant going of "The Pope ain't dope! The Pope ain't dope!" but no one would join in. So I had to settle for mimicking the geezer who waved his hands in disgust at fouls. Whenver we would score a basket and the ref would call a foul, I'd beat him to it and stand up open my arms and then wave them in disgust. Maybe I wasn't any better than their fans, but at least I was not serious. Then I was toying with the idea of bringing my digital camera and following them around for a few weeks. I'd tape their fans' reactions. Then I'd post it on youtube and send a link to their athletic director and superintendent.)

So while KoKo was playing, I just cheered encouragement. I never played basketball, but from listening to Kristie yell while coaching for years, I figure if I yell, "Move your feet!" "Match up on defense!" "Use two strong hands!" "Follow your shot!" and "Fight for position!" I've got all the bases covered.

But you would be amazed at how personal some parents take all of this. And it's just seventh grade basketball. One parent of twins who played on the team we beat for the championship screamed like a maniac while pacing the bleachers.

I kind of miss the days when parents didn't try to live vicariously through their children's athletic events. I mean my grandfather never attending one of Dad's football games. And my father was quite a player for Mentor years and years ago. But this was because sports were relatively new. My grandfather never even attended school, so he certainly didn't play sports. My dad quit high school after breaking his leg in football. But when it came my turn to play, he attended all the games and even hounded the head coach about watching the other team holding all the time. I was mortified! So now with my kids, I just sit back and cheer. Or try to. I can't live through them. I can just cheer them on.

In fact, a few years ago the coaches here brought in a speaker who specializes in researching parent-athlete relationships. Want to take a guess what the number one thing athletes hated most? "The ride home with Dad" as they called it.

I could not imagine my grandfather giving one lick about how many tackles or yards my father had. My grandfather had a farm to run. What good were tackles or yards to him. But when I had to sit in the car and argue with Dad about how he thought we should play defense and how our high school coach wanted us to play, I hated it. My dad didn't mean any harm. He just didn't know any better.

I do. So I shut up. If Casey wants to talk about football, we do. If not, we don't. It is just sports.

That's something I wish more spectators and parents would understand.

Of course, that's easy for me to say when KoKo's team didn't lose a game at the tournament. But it's seventh grade basketball. So what? Will these girls remember it when they're seniors? Probably not. But it's about having fun. My highlight was during the championship game when KoKo (who is a fine player, but not one of the stars of the team. She works hard. She needs to be more aggressive, but that is just part of her nature) stole the ball at half court, drove to the hoop, and did a lay up. Those points didn't win us the game, but what made me ecstatic was knowing that she never would have made that play last year. Sara, the best player on the team, makes that play half a dozen times a game, but it was great seeing KoKo seize the opportunity and make the most out of it. I'll take that little play over a championship any day. As it turns out, I got the best of both worlds on Saturday.