another five year old bites the dust
A girlfriend of mine has this kid. Cole Moody. He is a real cute kid. Five years old. In kindergarten. He is pretty short. I do not even know how short, I am not good with stuff like that. But probably about three feet tall. Built like a little tank. Short and thick. And he is a real sweet kid. I love this kid.
But I had to beat him at H.O.R.S.E.
Now this seems wrong. Most “adults” [I use that term loosely] playing basketball with a five year old would coddle the five year old. You know. Let the kid win. That is the right thing to do. The adult thing to do. Let the kid win.
Here is the thing about Cole.
He is good.
I am not making that up to save face. The kid has been playing basketball since he could crawl. Probably was making foul shots from the crib. Is the only kindergartner in history [okay I do not know a lot of kindergarten kids but take this on faith] who plays on the official school team with and against 6th graders — and that is just because he is in elementary school. If he was in high school they would induct him into the varsity team.
[Good thing they do not take five year olds in high school.]
I did not know any of this when the kid asked me to play H.O.R.S.E. and I [dumb me] said “Sure.” I mean, okay, his dad is a coach, his three older siblings are all on school teams, but he is five, right? And three feet tall. How hard could it be?
I was only outside by the hoop in the first place because I was smoking a cigarette. So there I am, cigarette in one hand, basketball in the other, wearing a flowing sweater and heels, click click click, thinking, No prob, I’ll let the kid win, right?
And then he started to beat me.
Little fu —
I mean, um, cute little tyke.
How was I supposed to know in a prior life he taught Larry Byrd how to play? Cripes.
Off went the flowing sweater. Off went the heels. Then the final indignity. I had to stub the cigarette out. Because, if you even gave the kid a shot, you were going down so hard.
I tell people it was the driveway that put me in the emergency room. But it might have been that game of H.O.R.S.E. [Okay, those twenty-five games of H.O.R.S.E.] And I did beat him. But just barely.
Right after that game I hurt my thumb. Now I can not play basketball. But he is waiting. He asks about it every time I see him. “How’s your thumb?”
Considerate little monster.
I better put up a hoop here and practice. This thumb injury cannot last forever. . . .
23 Responses to another five year old bites the dust
hi. you’re really funny ;) you know, he’ll remember his games with you as a kid more than any other… because you approach him so differently. that’s really cool. and shit.. competition’s fun anyhow.
-=- christopher
my Las Vegas blog
I wouldn’t let him win either. Seriously, learning how to compete and play fair has nothing to do with winning and losing. It’s all about improving your game while giving your opponent the chance to do the same. If you let someone win, even a five year old, it takes away the opportunity for them to learn what they need to work on.
That and getting beat by little kid in anything sucks big monkey balls.
So how is the thumb?
“Off went the flowing sweater. Off went the heels. Then the final indignity. I had to stub the cigarette out.”
Damn, you are funny. I have a little cousin like that five year old. Freaking nightmare.
I was reading this thinking it was Kitty’s blog and thinking to myself “Kitty wouldn’t slay a five year old at HORSE”, then, it dawned on me…
… Max would.
Who’s paying the kid’s therapist?
“Slayed” is way too kind. I barely beat the kid.
The thumb is reinjured and surly.
The kid’s therapist? That kid should be contributing to my therapy fund. And he will be able to too when he is inducted onto a Lakers team when he turns 17.
You got to treat him nice, then. He’ll be your ticket in the men’s locker rooms. Have you thought of that?
I cannot have my friend’s 17 year old son sneaking me into basketball locker rooms to perv on his fellow players. Not only would that totally demand I did pay for his therapy, basketball players are too tall.
Do you really want me to explain on a blog the benefits of a too tall, half dressed man?
Basketball players are nine feet tall Sophia. A guy nine feet tall might as well strap me to a utility belt that is the closest I am ever going to get to eye level while standing upright.
Oh. Wait. You are not talking about standing upright are you?
That will be ten hail maries, Miss.
You do know this kid wants your thumb to heal so he can get you back to the hoop…you know that right?
Just an FYI from the Mother of three boys.
Anita
Oh yes. I know.
Convo’s with the basketball kid:
Kid: You sure you need that thumb? I’ve seen you shoot one handed holding a cig.
Me: You are too good to play one handed holding a cig, the thumb has to heal.
Kid: When will it be better?
Me: They may have to amputate.
There is an alternative. You could get the kid to start smoking and make sure that you teach him that smoking can only be done with his right hand (assuming he’s right-handed) and only while playing HORSE.
I think your superior experience in this particular one-handed-smoking-while-shooting discipline will widen the margin of victory for you.
Five is too young to smoke. He can smoke when he is twelve.
That reminds me of my favorite Irish-ism:
I told ye, son. No drinkin’…’til yer five.
Damn, I’d buy a brace to wear on my hand every time I visit just to keep my esteem intact. That kid is scaring me and he’s 2000 miles away. Just imagine the funds he’s going to bring home in elementary school taking high-schoolers on a grift. No one will see it coming.
(very funny post, max)
(finally got my internet fixed, woo!)
Yay! Internet fixed is good.
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That post is pretty funny.
I think I actually know that kid, I think he played basketball with Garrett last year…hmmmm… is he from here(humboldt)?
Yes he is.