Craig watched his old sister, Riley, and her friend Liz race up and down the lake on their skates, avoiding other hockey(曲棍球) players. Their skate blades looked like silver smoke. When the game was over, the girls skated up to the bench where Craig was sitting. Craig asked Riley what skating felt like.
“When I go really fast, I feel like I am flying,” she said.
That is silly, thought Craig. Flying is something birds do in the air, not something people do on ice skates.
Then he watched Riley go back out on the ice. She skated around and around the edge of the lake with her arms pumping and her scarf trailing behind her. Soon she went so fast that her arms looked like wings and her scarf looked like a feathery tail. Maybe skating really was like flying.
When Riley sat down to take her skates off, Craig said, “I wish I could fly.”
Riley retied her skate laces and bent next to Craig. “Get on my back,” she said, and Craig did. Riley started skating, but Craig didn’t feel like he was flying. It just felt like a skating piggyback ride.
“You are too heavy,” Riley said, “I can’t go fast when I am carrying you.” She skated slowly back to the bench. Craig got off her back. “Even if you could go fast, I wouldn’t be flying.” he said sadly. “I need skates to fly.”
Riley didn’t say anything on the walk home, but a few days later she asked Craig if he wanted to go skating.
“To watch?” he asked. “No, to skate,” she said cheerfully. “Mom and I found a pair of my old skates. They might fit you.” The skates were a little big, but when Riley stuffed newspaper in the toes, they fit. Craig couldn’t stop smiling. He didn’t want to take them off, but he had to so he could walk to the lake. Riley and Liz went with him. They carried their hockey sticks and a wooden chair. Hardly had they got to the lake when Craig put his skates back on and Riley helped him onto the ice.
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Then she put his hands on the back of the chair.
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After a while, each girl took one of Craig’s hands.
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I recently attended a Little League baseball game held in Nassau County. It turned out to be a lesson on how not to parent a Little Leaguer.
I went there to watch a family friend play ball. School was winding down, and it was possible that stress levels would below, especially on the ball field. These kids were supposed to be having fun. But why did they look so angry? Why were the parents so tense? These were 11-and 12-year-old children, not professionals. But it seemed that the parents were not aware of that.
Some of the kids looked miserable. Both coaches were shouting at their players. With every pitch (投), every catch and every swing of the bat came sounds of “No, not like that!” or “Better keep that up, son!” After a while , it seemed to have a negative effect on the kids.
In the fifth game, after a player missed a play on the infield, a man told the boy, “Pay attention to the action! Get your head in the game!” The player responded, “Dad, it’s just a game, and I’m exhausted!”
I thought to myself how embarrassing that must have been for both of them. It’s been years since I was on the field, but I played in many different sports leagues as a kid. I recall how competitive some parents were when it came to watching their children. And it’s fine to want your children to win. Winning is important.
But winning is not everything. Is that the message you want to get across to your child—to win at all costs, and to put fun second? Because that is certainly what it seemed like, and that’s not the healthiest environment for a kid, not in Little League, anyway.
I played for and against my share of competitive coaches. But at the baseball game, the parents seemed to care about the outcome much more than their kids. Arguments over whose kid was the better pitcher and calls missed by the judge often broke out between parents in the stands.
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It seemed as if the kids weren’t the ones who got up on Saturday morning to go and play with friends.
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They’re just kids. Let them be kids.
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