My five-year old started bitty ball (that's basketball for the eight and under crowd for those who, like me, weren't already in the know) this past Saturday. In case you missed the highlights on Sports Center, I've summarized them below.
Pregame
Like most little girls her age, my daughter shuns pants, especially jeans, expect when it's absolutely necessary to wear them. Bitty ball qualifies as one of those occasions. In an effort to redeem the situation, she informed me that she was going to pack the new Hello Kitty lipgloss and glittery silver nail polish that she'd scored in a birthday party goody bag the previous afternoon.
"I can apply these during breaks," she reasoned, stuffing them into a tiny red purse.
After convincing her that timeouts would not actually afford enough time for a mid-court mani, I proceeded to deliver another blow: we'd have to omit the ubiqutous headband from her ensemble. Though I haven't personally reviewed the bitty ball rules book, I do know from my high school basketball coach hubby that headbands are a no-no. I figure if the KHSAA rules are good enough for every teenage athlete in the state, they're good enough for my daughter.
Countdown to Tip-Off
Surprisingly, my daughter, who until recently had a track record of being more than a little reticent in new situations, bounded right over to Coach John's huddle without so much as a backwards glance at me. Relieved to realize that I was more nervous than she was, I found an empty spot on the bleachers and fished the video camera from the depths of the diaper bag.
As I'd anticipated, roughly 75% of the players were boys. As they headed to their first practice station, I silently prayed that she wouldn't be the least coordinated one on the floor. Beyond the obvious reasons for not wanting my kid to be the klutz, like it or not, little girls who play co-ed sports shoulder the unfair burden of representing their entire gender, and I wanted her to do her sisters proud. I know I'm biased, but I think she held her own at each station before clasping hands with the other little girl on her team and skipping to the next.
Game Time
While her fundamentals are relatively solid, I can't say the same of her court awareness. At one point during the game, she and a little girl from the opposing team were parked at the half-court line chatting. Or maybe comparing lipgloss.
Shortly before their pow-wow, the same little girl had found herself in possession of the ball after a hasty pass from a panicked teammate. After taking a moment to process what had just happened, and hearing coaches and parents alike urging her to "pass the ball", she turned to my daughter and, smiling, handed her the ball. Part of me expected my littler baller to hand it right back with an explanation that you aren't supposed to give the ball to someone on the other team, but to my surprise (and, I have to admit, delight) my daughter simply took the ball and headed toward her team's basket.
Post-Game
When all was said and done, the Black Team (whose mascot is still TBD - candidates, supplied by the players, include The Panthers and The Black Olives) got trounced. Since bitty ball is all about fostering sound fundamentals, a love of the game and all that stuff that really matters not to kids (and some parents), there was no official score keeping, but everyone who watched knew that the Orange Team had scored at least a dozen baskets to the Black Team's maybe three.
As she skipped to the bathroom for one last potty break (our third in two hours) before we headed home, my daughter asked me if they'd won. When I replied that I didn't think they had, she was crushed. For about three seconds. Then she was asking about the snack that I'd promised to pack and why that little girl on the Orange Team had passed her the ball.
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