Ready to go to his first Little League game.
Little League begins for BR this weekend.
This is his last year in the league, and he made his goals clear.
So, what are you thinking about for the upcoming season?
Huh? Could you take the music out of your ears for a minute?
[Sound like a conversation you’ve had with your teen?]
Fine, what do you want?
What are you thinking about for the upcoming season?
We have to win a championship.
Well, every team wants to win, and only one will. I mean I want to and everything, but to say we have to…
No. If we don’t win, it’s a fail. It’s our final year, and we haven’t won yet. So, it has to be this year.
How many times have you heard practice makes perfect?
About a gazillion – right.
And I find it be true for the most part. Well, I might not get to perfect, but I get way, way better.
But then, there’s parenting.
Next week BR will be 14. Whoa – had a stop there for a moment. That still surprises me.
Anyway, that means I will have been a parent for 122,640 hours. Way more than the 10,000 hour rule.
By the way, this doesn’t even count the hours with SJ who will be 11.5 in a couple of weeks. Do we get double time? Just wondering.
So, the 10,000 hour rule. You know it – right? Takes 10,000 hours of deliberate practice to become great at some high level task. While this is an average and is task dependent, the point is it takes a long time to get to be great at something.
My view of the Eagles as they made their way along the Parade route.
Answer: Just a little more.
Question: How long can you continue to celebrate the Eagles Super Bowl victory?
After the Super Bowl ended and my family and hugged, high fived, and shed a tear or two, a question came up. Who’s going to the parade?
We had cheered, cursed, and sweated over the team’s highs and lows throughout the year. We had extended emotional effort into our team of choice. So, like other passionate sports fans who have just seen the team they root for win a championship, we wanted to continue the celebration.
Judging by the scenes of the streets of Philadelphia after the game was over, we were a few of many who wanted to parade and celebrate the Eagles Super Bowl Victory.
It’s May of 1987. I’m in my mid-teens. I’m in my room. I lie in my bed. The door is shut. The lights are out. I’m not surly. I’m not dreaming of a girl. I simply want to be alone. To focus.
I can’t take my eyes off of my 13-inch t.v. On the screen is the Stanley Cup. And the Philadelphia Flyers are facing the Edmonton Oilers.
The Flyers are a talented team. They were in the Stanley Cup two years before and have won their division multiple years in a row. They have great players including Kerr (who is injured and unable to play during the Stanley Cup series), Propp, Poulin, Tocchett. Howe, Marsh, McCrimmon, Sutter (my favorite player whose jersey I’m wearing), and Hextall.
And then there’s the Oilers. They’ve won the cup two of the last three years (and will go on to win a few more). Their star players include Gretzky, Messier, Kurri, Coffey, Anderson, and Fuhr. Each of these players would eventually be made a member of the NHL Hall of Fame (only Howe made it for the Flyers).