Monday, October 30, 2006
The Fall Road Trip
This past weekend turned out to be a fine one. Not only was the weather close to perfect (for October), it was Parent’s Day at the university that my oldest daughter, Maribel, attends. Maribel plays for her university varsity basketball team. This is not one of the huge schools that you are likely to see on ESPN, but rather a school that participates in Division II athletics.
Maribel was not heavily recruited in high school, but this particular school seemed to think that she possessed at least a fair amount talent, so they invited her to attend the school to try out. Translation: squeeze at least one semester’s tuition and room-and-board out of mom and dad before you are told that you didn’t make the team. Fortunately, Maribel does possess some basketball talent (inherited from her father, naturally) and made the team. The school chooses to only give a very few full athletic scholarships, but when Maribel was deemed adequate enough to play, she was offered a “partial” scholarship. Translation: mom and dad still pay through the nose, but only through one nostril.
We picked up Angela’s friend Bernie (the police officer and former college basketball player herself) and made the 150 mile drive to the university. This will probably be the last time that we are able to visit with Maribel outside of basketball-related activity until Christmas, and then not until April since the basketball team will basically monopolize her spare time until then. So we were all excited.
There are three primary activities that are undertaken by the Spakowiak family during parent’s day. One of them is not, for those of you who might be wondering, spanking. We may be an imaginary family, but we are not that imaginary. The three activities are:
1) Eating tremendous amounts of food at the pre- and post-game tailgating festivities. Angela and Bernie pack quite the picnic, and I am something of a master with the barbeque.
2) Attending the Parent’s Day football game. The Parent’s Day crowd is usually considerable and in quite the excited mood.
3) The annual Parent’s Day 2-on-2 basketball game.
Number three is typically the highlight of the weekend. This tradition actually started shortly after Maribel first picked up a basketball and discovered she loved the sport. The teams are always the same: Angela and Bernie against Maribel and I. While I brag that Maribel’s basketball acumen comes from my genes, the truth is that Angela and Bernie are quite the players themselves. But, if you are followers of this blog and have read the story of how Angela and I first met, you’d know that. Bernie went to college on a basketball scholarship, and has taught Maribel a good deal of the nuances of the women’s game. Our youngest daughter, Colette, is the referee. Since Colette knows next to nothing about basketball, she makes rules up as we go to make sure that the game remains competitive.
The game was, as usual, quite competitive. We are all fine players, and all of us excepting Angela are over six feet tall (Angela is 5 foot 9 inches). I cannot give you the final score because we do not keep score. We determine the winner by the “next basket wins” rule. When we are all tired and ready to quit, the referee, Colette, declares, “Next basket wins!” Saturday, upon Colette’s order, Angela and I had the ball. Angela set a pick for me, and then rolled towards the basket. Rather than passing to her, I opted to try for the glory and took a jump shot. Clang! Lots of rim, no net. Bernie quickly pulled down the rebound, passed out to Maribel, who drove past Angela and passed off to Bernie for an easy basket. Colette, as per her duty, promptly declared them the winner. Angela was not pleased that I chose to shoot rather than pass to her, and so cost us the game, sort of. I’m sure I’ll get spanked for that later.
We ate more, found a friendly tavern in town, and ate still more (no liquor as Colette was with us and Maribel is not yet 21), while we rehashed both the football and basketball game. Then Angela, Colette, Bernie, and I headed for home, and Maribel headed back to classes, practices, studying, and other things that college students do on the weekend.
I think fathers never want their little girls to grow up. They seem so fragile. We too often read in the newspapers of the awful things that happen to teenage girls at the hands of unscrupulous teenage boys. Fortunately, Maribel has become quite assertive and adept at taking care of herself. Her mother, especially, taught her how not to let people fuck with her. As for me, the day that I knew that Maribel had grown up is very clear in my mind. It was the day that she was able to defeat her dear old man on the basketball court.
She’s a fantastic daughter.
Maribel was not heavily recruited in high school, but this particular school seemed to think that she possessed at least a fair amount talent, so they invited her to attend the school to try out. Translation: squeeze at least one semester’s tuition and room-and-board out of mom and dad before you are told that you didn’t make the team. Fortunately, Maribel does possess some basketball talent (inherited from her father, naturally) and made the team. The school chooses to only give a very few full athletic scholarships, but when Maribel was deemed adequate enough to play, she was offered a “partial” scholarship. Translation: mom and dad still pay through the nose, but only through one nostril.We picked up Angela’s friend Bernie (the police officer and former college basketball player herself) and made the 150 mile drive to the university. This will probably be the last time that we are able to visit with Maribel outside of basketball-related activity until Christmas, and then not until April since the basketball team will basically monopolize her spare time until then. So we were all excited.
There are three primary activities that are undertaken by the Spakowiak family during parent’s day. One of them is not, for those of you who might be wondering, spanking. We may be an imaginary family, but we are not that imaginary. The three activities are:
1) Eating tremendous amounts of food at the pre- and post-game tailgating festivities. Angela and Bernie pack quite the picnic, and I am something of a master with the barbeque.
2) Attending the Parent’s Day football game. The Parent’s Day crowd is usually considerable and in quite the excited mood.
3) The annual Parent’s Day 2-on-2 basketball game.
Number three is typically the highlight of the weekend. This tradition actually started shortly after Maribel first picked up a basketball and discovered she loved the sport. The teams are always the same: Angela and Bernie against Maribel and I. While I brag that Maribel’s basketball acumen comes from my genes, the truth is that Angela and Bernie are quite the players themselves. But, if you are followers of this blog and have read the story of how Angela and I first met, you’d know that. Bernie went to college on a basketball scholarship, and has taught Maribel a good deal of the nuances of the women’s game. Our youngest daughter, Colette, is the referee. Since Colette knows next to nothing about basketball, she makes rules up as we go to make sure that the game remains competitive.
The game was, as usual, quite competitive. We are all fine players, and all of us excepting Angela are over six feet tall (Angela is 5 foot 9 inches). I cannot give you the final score because we do not keep score. We determine the winner by the “next basket wins” rule. When we are all tired and ready to quit, the referee, Colette, declares, “Next basket wins!” Saturday, upon Colette’s order, Angela and I had the ball. Angela set a pick for me, and then rolled towards the basket. Rather than passing to her, I opted to try for the glory and took a jump shot. Clang! Lots of rim, no net. Bernie quickly pulled down the rebound, passed out to Maribel, who drove past Angela and passed off to Bernie for an easy basket. Colette, as per her duty, promptly declared them the winner. Angela was not pleased that I chose to shoot rather than pass to her, and so cost us the game, sort of. I’m sure I’ll get spanked for that later.
We ate more, found a friendly tavern in town, and ate still more (no liquor as Colette was with us and Maribel is not yet 21), while we rehashed both the football and basketball game. Then Angela, Colette, Bernie, and I headed for home, and Maribel headed back to classes, practices, studying, and other things that college students do on the weekend.
I think fathers never want their little girls to grow up. They seem so fragile. We too often read in the newspapers of the awful things that happen to teenage girls at the hands of unscrupulous teenage boys. Fortunately, Maribel has become quite assertive and adept at taking care of herself. Her mother, especially, taught her how not to let people fuck with her. As for me, the day that I knew that Maribel had grown up is very clear in my mind. It was the day that she was able to defeat her dear old man on the basketball court.
She’s a fantastic daughter.
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Sounds like a very enjoyable time. Enjoy your blog! Pretty interesting for a fake guy. :D
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# posted by 
: November 01, 2006 1:35 PM
: November 01, 2006 1:35 PM << Home
