My son is on a basketball team.

My son is on a basketball team at school.

I never imagined I’d ever say those words out loud.

My son stands with his feet slightly apart, weight to the toes, knees slightly bent, hands over his head with the weight of the ball resting on the palms, fingers loose behind the ball ready to propel…. he sinks down then springs upward, pushing the ball into the hoop and “swish” …he makes it.  Then the OT tosses it back to him and he reaches out his arms and catches it with his hands, pushing it into a dribble – four times – then back to the free throw line to shoot…and score….again.

The “hoop” was only 6 foot up and he was standing 4 foot away from it, but he was making shots like a real boy – he was a real boy – he is a real boy.

Today, I got his report card from school in the mail. A’s and B’s in classes like Math and Art.

He’s choosing behavior appropriate for a 12 year old.  He’s laughing more, he’s sleeping more, and he’s growing like a weed!

But more that this…

My son is on a basketball team.

That’s my boy!!!!


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Pearl Manhattan

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