How About Some Football?

"Really?" I thought to myself when I saw a few spots of white paint on the walls in the gym.  Every other room was busy, so the kids and I had to go up to the girls' basketball gym to participate in another class.  The class was basically an open gym for kids 12 and under.

The instructor had the kids playing an abbreviated form of football.  I didn't play because a) my left knee has been acting up again, and b) I'm not into football.  It gave the kids in my class something to do, which I was happy about.  But of course, some did not participate (Angel), some were acting out as usual (Tough and Talky), and some didn't show up, period (most of the boxing class).  Canceling the boxing class until the gym is painted is not an option.  The program is new and still in the process of being built up.  Any shut down will seriously slow the momentum.

I learned that most of the kids don't listen and are always trying to do what they want to do -- contrary to what is actually going on -- in most every program that goes on at the field house.  I kept having to check Tough and Talky for their antics, and I was not in the mood for much. Tough had the nerve to suggest that everyone participate in a hula-hoop competition because she was bored with throwing around a ball.  The staff person running the open gym as well as myself told Tough twice that she could not do that.  Instead of following orders, Tough tried again to get the other kids on her side.  I overheard one boy tell her that he had the right to not want to go along with what she wanted to do. I was cheering him in my mind.

While the kids were playing, the usual crowd of basketball players kept wandering in and out.  One boy could not understand why he had to wait more than an hour to use the gym.  I grumbled to the kid, "Y'all got basketball on the brain," before again repeating what time the other kids would be done with the gym.  All of my encounters with the kids today made me extremely glad that I could go home to a nice, quiet apartment where there are no kids -- or grandchildren, for that matter.  I actually felt sorry for their parents who have to live with that 24/7 for 18 to 21 years.  Help them, Jesus.