Oh, hello! Come on in and have some tea with me.
After many years of resisting my mother’s pleas to go see my nephew play basketball, lately I find myself attending his games. He LOVES basketball. He wants to play professionally. And of course, my mother has been going to his games and gushing about how good he is and blah blah blah. Whatever, Mum, you’re his grandmother. OF COURSE you are going to say he’s good. That’s what grandmothers do. *eye roll*
So, my nephew? Eddie? Is *really* good. I’m actually really impressed with how good he is. He is in high school, a sophomore. He plays on the Varsity team – the only soph to do so. And he does really well with the older boys. Watching, I can see that some of the seniors are reluctant to pass him the ball at times, but I think that might be an ego thing, rather than an “Eddie sucks” thing. Which is too bad. He doesn’t hog the ball, he passes well, he’s great on defense, and is really all about the team. When he’s on the bench and there’s a time-out, he’s the first off the bench to high-five (or whatever high school kids do these days) the players coming off the floor. It’s nice to see that. It’s a little thing, but I’m sure others notice it too.
The first game I went to was at a school that I had not visited in more than 25 years. If anything could define “surreal” I think that would be it. Then I got to people watch the other high school team’s fans. OH MAH GAH. If I was ever that young or that obnoxious, I am publically apologizing to anyone I came in contact with.
And the clothes?? OY! I’ve been trying to think back to my high school term. Granted, it was 25 years ago, so my memory is a little fuzzy. But I honestly do not remember, EVER, seeing girls wear so little, or with bewbs so big. I know there were girls with huge bewbs. And I know that there were girls who dressed, um…. far less conservatively than I. But, holy cows!! There was skin showing, and copious amounts of lycra, and short, and tight. YIKES!
It must be the style these days. I don’t spend a lot of time around kids. I don’t “get” them, typically. Or I end up talking to them as if I were one of them, and I don’t know that that is a good thing either. But to see these kids, putting it all out there, while still managing to look SO young? It makes me sad for them. They are so far ahead of where we were 25 years ago – socially, technologically – that they aren’t kids any more. They all have better phones/shoes/bags/cars than I do (which, quite honestly, is not saying much). But I still think it’s taking away the joy of childhood from them.
Ugh. Anyway. Enough philosophical blather today.
My nephew? I’ll tell you his real name when he goes pro. For now? He’s my Eddie and I am *really* proud of him. And he should be really proud of himself.