AJ had his first basketball game this morning. After a two-week hiatus, this was a pretty big deal. We were expecting something like the scrimmages they�ve been doing at the end of practices, where two teams will get together on a court and try to remember which way to shoot the ball � the single biggest error aside from forgetting to dribble (which isn�t actually illegal in kindergarten basketball, in part because the kids are so small that a well dribbled ball can bounce completely over their heads) is shooting for the other team. Instead of the informality, though, there were real referees -- actually high school girls in referee shirts with really wimpy sounding whistles � and an electronic clock and score board. The latter so mesmerized AJ that on his first entry in the game, he stood transfixed in front of it, forgetting to guard his man, who promptly ran down the court and attempted a basket (he missed).

I actually have this part on hearsay, as I missed the beginning of AJ�s game, because I went to yoga and managed to get myself easily and comfortably into supta virasana but encountered some difficulty in getting out again. Did you click to the picture? It looks innocent enough, relaxing even. Do not be fooled! There are more sit-ups in my future before I try that one again. I suppose I should be happy that I got there at all, but I have to say that nothing makes me feel more like a beached whale than having to be rescued from a pose by the two skinny twenty-year-olds on either side of me.

But back to AJ�s game. I saw the second half and he played his little heart out. Sweat was pouring off of him when he was subbed out. He guzzled water and then leaned up against me, leaving a nice wet head-shaped spot on my side. His team lost 10 to 14. He was sad, but his friend S. was on the other team. S. was so excited, that AJ pulled himself together and got excited for him too. They both have games again tomorrow against other teams. �Good luck,� S. shouted to AJ as he left.

�Good luck, S.!� AJ shouted back. AJ turned to me. �It doesn�t matter if I didn�t win,� he said in a resigned voice, the kind that lets me hear he�s trying to believe something we�ve told him a million times. And then, so quietly I�m not sure I was supposed to hear him, �But I hope we do.�

2 people said it like they meant it