Maybe the problem is me, maybe I am expecting my boys to be more like me and I should accept that everyone is a unique snowflake. I grew up not really sure if I enjoyed anything other than competing. Everything in my head is a test to see how you measure. When you start school, it is a race to see who can do the alphabet first, who can read first, who can add and subtract and everything is then given the fancy term of benchmarks. Whether we like it or not, we start getting segregated and separated into the smart kids and the others, at least that was how it was when I went to school. I enjoyed always being with the "smart kids". Then I joined band and more competing to see what chair and where you would sit. I remember that to move up we had a music book in 7th grade and I remember staying after school to go through it all the way, again, so I would be put in the top chairs and for sure in the symphonic band, not the concert band with the dodoes. Javalina doesn't want to believe me, but I played football in junior high and I started as guard in 7th, then right tackle and I played nose guard, so I played like him this year, where I was always on the field. I did some simple math going to high school, the football team was usually a dismal 3-7 if it was a decent season while the band was recognized as "La Banda De Los Javalinas". There was way more prestige to be in the band than on the shitty football team, plus most of the girls worth anything were in the band, so I stayed with band. I have never gotten involved with something just to be mediocre in it, I can't even wrap my head around that idea. Even when I graduated and had nowhere to go and I ended up in a warehouse, by the end of the week, I was given control of the warehouse loading and unloading trucks with a forklift when I had never driven one before.
Now I am raising kids and I love them more than anything, but I feel like I have to bite my lip and curse in private when I see the lack of effort sometimes. Boy eventually has found his niche with computers and the science world, but it was real hard having to battle dyslexia with him because it really slowed him down at times. Plus there were the two years he played football, he didn't really want to, but we thought it would be good for him and he made some friends there that are still around, so that was time well spent, I think.
The other Knucklehead though is at that age where I feel like he is testing me and I am bad at taking everything negative personally. I should accept that the reality is his hormones are a mess right now and he is confused and distracted and nothing has anything to do with me. But when I see him competing and knowing what he can do, it's like come on A-hole, show these people what "We" represent. He has his own shotputs (plural) and I spray painted a circle in the backyard for him to throw and with us riding him, we got him to almost 34ft, quite respectable from what I have seen. Yet, today at the tournament, for example, I arrive and he is doing his "warm-up" throws with his sweater on, he has the wrong shoes, he is not really doing good form, and there was hardly a grunt when he released. I don't want to helicopter parent, but TAKE THE FUCKING SWEATER OFF, IT'S 80 DEGREES.
To his credit, he placed 2nd with a throw of 27ft and change, but the 1st place throw was a mighty 40ft 10in. That momma's kid got after him because he normally throws 42ft. I accept that he is more interested in the little girls all around him, even if he can't accept it, but the 2-3 minutes when he is throwing, he should be fully focused. I don't expect him to throw 40, but if I consistently see 32-34ft at the house, I want to see that in the real world, yes, he is like my prized stallion while it comes to competing. Our living room is nothing but punching bag in one corner, weight bench under the big screen, various medicine balls, free weights and whatever else he feels he needs.
It is not me forcing him, he insists he is going to play college football, I am just trying to do as much as I can to help get him there, short of forcing protein shakes down his throat, but that may be coming. The coach tells me he is strong, but I want him stronger. He still can't move me, although at 400 pounds, I know that is not easy for anyone. Still, the boys from Paredes today were all bigger than me, I thought it was like the high school squad, they were all beefy boys. It felt like the Lamda Lamda Lamdas had shown up like at the end of Revenge of the Nerds. Even the mom of the boy that threw over 40ft was taller than me. But that is competition in the real world we live in.
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