Vertically Enhanced

I went to two ball games today. Both granddaughters had games. The oldest one had her game during the early afternoon, and three teammates were home sick. Her team lost by about five points. I've followed them throughout the season, but not always in person because of the two-hour drive and other commitments. I am the number one cheerleader of my granddaughters. It was not her best game, and she was visibly upset at the end of the game after coming out of the locker room. It breaks my heart to see her in tears like that. She was down on herself. No one needed to say anything to her. I went through that with her mom when she played ball. She is such a hard worker and practices ALL the time. She is at that age in middle school where she is not as self-confident as she should be. Sometimes, she should have taken the three-point shot but passed off. I'm sure the question of what if I miss was running through her head. I love what the game is teaching her. Work ethic. She will work on her self-confidence; one day, it will all come together.

Then, it was on to a third and fourth-grade game. My other UP NORTH granddaughter was playing in that game. It was lucky that they were at different times. This granddaughter is nine years old but vertically enhanced like her mom, dad, grandma, and grandpas. Right now, she is at least a head and a half taller than her teammates. This can be a good thing sometimes, and other times a bad thing. Today, it was a bad thing. She had about all her nine-year-old self in this vertically enhanced body could take. Double and triple teams, girls hanging off of her, stealing the ball by running under her arms while she was dribbling, and a girl wrapping her leg around my granddaughter's leg at every whipstitch was just about all this poor girl could withstand. I could tell she was getting disgusted. Her face said it all. As she played out there, my heart broke for her. She does not practice as much as her sister, but she is nine. She still likes to play with dolls. Sometimes, she says things that reminds me that she is nine. So, while she is out on the court, I will remember that she is nine! Her playing days are just in their infancy. It's hard to remember that sometimes. And for this dear granddaughter, it will all come together for her as well one day.

Later...