Saturday, December 31, 2011

THE PAST YEAR

Dear Spike:

I'm not quite sure when or why I did it, but at some point I began posting all of my Facebook status updates in haiku form. I like the brevity, simplicity and the self-indulgent quirkiness of it. And I suppose I just figured that if something takes more than 17 syllables to explain, it probably isn't something that needs to be shared with everyone I've ever known.

Over the course of the past year, I’ve written more than 200 of the little ditties. This morning I gathered them all up as a way to take stock of the past year, and I noticed a few themes that I thought were interesting.

First, it’s clear that I spend a lot of time worrying about Oregon State University’s football team and the Real Salt Lake soccer team. Second, our family apparently spends a ton of time with our friends Chris and Ashley; many of my tiny poems were about them. Third, I think about you a lot — you are mentioned quite a bit in this collection. Fourth, I spend a lot of time thinking about work — both writing and teaching. And fifth, you seem to be a little bit of a racist — there are several posts in there about how you apparently think all black people look alike and all Asian people should speak Chinese…

… um, we’re working on that.

The collection of haikus also gives me a good glimpse of many of the ways that made this year so special. And it was very special, indeed.

It was the year that I left full-time newspapering and you and I broke off our daddy daycare arrangement so that I could begin teaching full-time and you could go to pre-school. You fell hopelessly addicted to snowboarding. I went off to Ethiopia with my good friend and colleague, Rick, to report on ritual tribal infanticide. We traveled to Wyoming to watch the National High School Finals Rodeo (and you and your mom kept going — all the way to South Dakota — to visit Mount Rushmore.) The Afghanistan War entered its 10th year. The Iraq War ended. Our whole family got toy light sabers (seriously, that was a big deal.)

All in all, it wasn’t a bad year.

And we’re getting off to a pretty good start on the new one. We’ll spend the next week in Beijing, hiking the Great Wall, touring the Forbidden City and eating all sorts of wonderful things.

Ready?

San…

Er….

Yi …

Happy New Year!

Love,
dad


Resolved: A year of

life, love and laughter with my

friends and family.


First e-mail addressed

to "Professor LaPlante." This

is hilarious!


First class has come and

gone. I'm still alive. So are

all of my students.


Funny watching snobs

Find out their Sundance choices

Are sold out. Sorry!


Thank you, Auburn, for

saving me from a lifetime

of humility.


Wow, it's true: Teachers

get paid peanuts. Good news is

that I'm used to that.


Lawyer up cowboy

There's a new copyrightin'

sheriff in this town.


Um, 'I' before 'E'

except after RNC

and the GOP?


Dinner, movie with

a woman who is not my

wife. How scandalous!


It's not enough to

spoil my daughter as I

juggle all my jobs.


Trying to capture

the problems of Sudan in

one concise column.


She fell in the snow.

Got back up and shredded some

More. That is my girl.


Benchmark! Spike and I

Ordered our entire lunch

In Mandarin. Yum!


"hey man," the student

writes. "Y didnt i get full

points." Gee, let me think.


Just saw "page one" at

Sundance. I'm not comforted

And not afflicted.


A late night, early

Morning with my college pals.

Flashback: OSU.


Sundance: "Pariah"

Absolutely amazing.

Touching. Beautiful.


Really, people of

Sundance: you are just not that

important. OK?


3 degrees out, but

no complaints here. Alaska

buddies would mock me.


Sorry about the

Cryptic Facebook update, but:

I think that went well.


Spike: "Are you ready

for some football? Yeah? Me too.

Boo-yah!" Kick ass kid.


Army leader says

he would rather not invade

Mexico. Ya think?


Class today was great.

Experiential learning

Is so rewarding.


Too-good-to-fire

Sloan, finally out. Making

room for something great?


Missing my girls this

Week. I can't wait to be home.

See you Wednesday.


Didn't play one hand

in Vegas. But going home

early, so I win!


Awesome news tonight:

My friend Bill is moving to

Green Street. Party! Yeah!


Wi-fi, indoor play

area, fruit and oatmeal

Mickey D's. Who knew?


Happy birthday dear

Heidi happy birthday to

you-oooo-ooo-ooo-oooo


Like a mad viking

sailing over the the end of

the world. Laugh like that


Hey Dave. Comfy in

The owner's box? Come down here

And take some tickets.


Ch-ch-ch-changes:

Just accepted a teaching

gig at Utah State.


"Professor" makes me

cringe, but feeling ready to

make this transition.


Proud and grateful for

the opportunities I've

been given lately.


Go Real Salt Lake

Go-oh-oh Real Salt Lake

Go Real Salt Lake!


Couldn't believe this

guy. Who the hell put him in

charge of marketing?


Blood, fire and... bras?

Are miracles in the eye

of the beholder?


Neue, which published one

of my Cuba pieces is

now archived online.


Seeking a buyer

for infanticide piece. Your

suggestions welcome.


We told Spike today

about preschool. She jumped. I

cried. Gonna miss her.


"You care about me"

revelations from two kids

in class this week. Win.


Super performance

by Real Salt Lake. 4-1

over Becks, L.A.


Powder. Pure as coke.

And yes, every little bit

as addictive. Sweet


Lost breadmaker part

was in the top of the bag

in top of the can!


Olave is a

Monster! Real Salt Lake scores

in Costa Rica!


Spike went with me. So

sweet when she told those old men:

"thanks for your service."


Congress, White House: Wake

up. These are the lives you're so

blithely screwing with.


I love you, Phillip

Morris: One of the sweetest,

saddest films I've seen.


Just got locked out of

The New York Times for the first time.

Pay? Nope, not this month.


Turbotax tells me

we owe a bundle. We've been

very blessed this year.


While doing taxes

today realized my last raise

was back in '05.


Realizing that my

students come with some pretty

hefty baggage. Yikes.


Sent monster check to

IRS. Don't mind; just wish

G.E. paid its share.


Broke all of my food

rules last night. It was great, but

paying for it now.


Tribune to LaPlante:

Don't let the door hit you on

the way out. Classy.


Oh. My. God. Real

Salt Lake is in great shape for

Next Wednesday. Woooo!


Sad to learn of the

death of Tim Hetherington.

Comrade and great bloke.


A little comfort

For the afflicted. My last

Sunday in The Trib.


Leaving Brighton with

Spike the super shredder. What

An awesome season.


So excited to

See these lovely crazies here

In Salt Lake City


And this might very

well be the last story I

write for The Tribune.


An all-nighter? Yup.

It's grade time, and that schtick ain't

just for students. Word?


Still proud to be a

Real Salt Lake fan. Onward

To MLS Cup


Eight days left before

Ethiopia. Now the

hard work all begins.


Cleared my stuff out of

the Trib. Thursday roast and then

I'm done. Feeling good.


Back from the bush. All

is going better than we

could have imagined.


One last day in the

cradle. My God, the graves I

have seen. Africa.


Two customs agents

for three hundred people. Nice

Job America.


Hanging with Bono

and The Edge and thinking of

my friend, Rick Egan.


Tomorrow Spike turns

four! So proud of my smart, brave,

tough and kind daughter.


All great things must come

To an end. But RSL

We still love you guys!


A student called me

"Hitler" and aA Nazi" in

an e-mail today.


Memorial Day

Snowboarding on ten inches

Of fresh powder. Yeah!


Student who called me

"Hitler" now sending veiled threats

of violence. Lovely.


Police escort for

Threatening student. Glad that's

Over. Craziness


Feeling a little

like Charles Foster Kane. Circa

1895.


Fourth birthday present:

Five shots at the doctor. My

Daughter is so tough.


Beginning to think

I might not be as good at

Poker as I thought.


Never discouraged,

Spike plays her 3-wood from the

Liberty Park rough.


Still thinking about

mango pudding. Thanks Ashly

and Chris. Awesome night.


Falling asleep while

grading papers. Wish these kids

were better writers.


So lucky to have

such lovely birthday wishes

from such awesome friends.


A song for my wife.

I call it: "The Googolplex

and a small brown goat."


Party: Liberty

Park, North East corner. High noon.

Saturday. Bring meat.


I'm still awake? Damn

you iced tea and the British

ship you sailed in on.


Last call: Liberty

Park. Northeast corner. Party!

Noon. Bring meat. Have fun!


Writing. Rewriting.

Writing some more. This story

Is kicking my ass.


Hours later, The

Writer looks back and wonders:

"What good did that do?"


Huntsman-Obama

in Twenty-Twelve? Stranger things

have happened. Read on.


Waaaah! Lebron hurt my

feelings! He's so smug and mean!

Whatever people.


Another day and

another rewrite. Word by

word, it gets better


Congratulations

to my good friend Jeff Key on

his first New York show.


Draft to editor,

check! And now, onto the next

project. Never done!


Reluctantly crouched

at the starting line. Watching

Cake at The Gardens.


Chris and Ashley at

The Cake concert. She's going

The distance. Ooooooooh yeah!


Note to Mandarin-

Speaking daughter: Not ev'ry

Asian knows Chinese


At Mister Popper's

With my little penguin girl.

Happy Father's Day


Junk food, cigarettes

and fraud, oh my. The food stamp

debacle. Read on.


My God, are these kids

really communications

students? Heaven help


Karl Rove is a big
liar, and some other facts,
at The Center Mass.


Wah wah wah. It's just

so damn hot. Stop complaining,

people. It's summer!


Congratulations

Alex and Keriann. Our

Neighbors and our friends.


Wow. Giants still top

NL West -- with fewest runs

scored in MLB.


"OK, we'll take that

one." "Oh, that one? It just sold

five minutes ago."


Grades are out. Edit

is complete. Now to launch a

news website. Busy.


Go Real Salt Lake.

Beat these grade-schoolers. And get

Back to CONCACAF.


Spoiled celebs: Please

stop glorifying your choice

to drop out of school.


Belly up to the

watering hole. Presenting:

The Liberty Well.


Back on Radio

West on Wednesday. Listen

in at Eleven.


Soccer referees

have the toughest job in sports -

but this was awful.


On Radio West

Today: Why don't people watch

Women's sports? Tune in!


Special thanks to Ash

McDash for shooting this piece

for Liberty Well


Is it too late to

rename my daughter Abby?

Hey, I'm just asking.


Taking my girls to

China this winter. Spike's so

excited! Me too!


I'm proud of what our

part-time, two-man, volunteer

shop has done so far.


I wish I was in

Germany today. Go Team

USA. Win it!


Can't feel bad about

that. Japan played with heart and

never gave up. Win.


Twenty-five minutes

Ago: Monsoon. Now: Clear blue

Skies. I love summer.


My God! The Harvest

Moon. I could reach out and pluck

It out of the sky.


Pitch black. Driving through

Oil fields. Wyoming re-

minds me of Iraq.


My feminism

put to the test: Spike wants to

be a bull rider.


OK, Oregon

Trail fans: What landmark did we

visit this morning?


Yes, there's a reason

I've seen the Flecktones more than

Any other band.


Dear God, I know we

don't talk much, but could you send

us Jürgen Klinsmann?


The world awaits my

amazing daughter, who got

her passport today


Tahoe vacation

If life could be better I'm

Not quite certain how.


Say what you will 'bout

Utah. This shit would never

happen there, hombres.


Lord knows I'm not the

perfect husband. So I feel

lucky to have her


What slogan should I

wear on my shirt on my first

day at Utah State?


So impressed by all

the other new recruits at

USU. Love it!


Proud of my little

footballers. But man, they're bad.

Always next season.


Cool to see Brandon

Griggs and Kristy Griggs on my

laptop screen today!


Spike went off to pre-

-school today. She was fine. Her

mom and I? A mess.


Me: Hey look! Who's that?

Her: "Hello Andy Williams!"

Me: "That's Olave."


My friend and his buds

Designed this product. Perfect

gift for a shower.


Now I need someone

who is no longer Mormon

but still on the roles.


My return to the

Trib: A story about life,

death, faith and baseball.


Our first big scoop at

The Liberty Well. More where

that came from, Tribune.


First day of classes

at USU today. I

think I'll just sleep in.


"No late assignments."

"Even if my mother dies?"

"I'll need an obit."


One of my clients

is looking for a temp in

SLC. Details:


The Liberty Well

Now starring local foody

Ashley Detrick. Yeah!


Old: Some in my class

are closer in age to my

daughter than to me.


One of my students

wrote about a "cereal

rapist." Cheerios!


OSU our hats

Are off to you. And after

That, shirts and pants, too.


My poor little Spike

broke her big toe — right in time

for soccer season.


Salt Lakers: Check out

the newest version of the

Liberty Well site:


Out with the boys for

Musical theater. Thanks

Scott Sommerdorf.


I don't think that my

Beavs will win the BCS

title this season.


Here's to the next de-

-cade. May she be a damn sight

better than the last.


Just secured my next

season at Brighton. I'm now

ready for the snow.


Hosting Radio

West Thursday. Theme: National

Anthem. Your thoughts, friends?


One player on time

For practice. This is why I

Shouldn't volunteer.


Incredibly proud

of my friend, Leah Bryner,

who just passed the bar!


From The Liberty

Well: Salt Lake won't enforce its

dumping ordinance.


Utah just picked up

yet another BYU

fumble. Whoooo! Go Utes!


One hundred and six

pounds of tomatoes later,

ready for winter


Yes, I know you were

taught that way. You must unlearn

what you've learned, Jedi.


Diyar's dying wish

was to be buried in his

home nation. Please share.


Account now set up

at Wells-Fargo. Please share this

story with your friends.


Just had to tell a

student that they likely won't

pass this class. I'm sad.


Great to see local

media jumping on this

story. Momentum


Dropped off dad's cash for

Diyar. Was told many had

come earlier. Yeah!


Facebook sent me an

e-mail to tell me it would

send me less e-mail.


Found a carpool friend.

But it feels like I have won

The time lottery.


USU must be

the king of the "just about

almost an upset.


Consolation: This

Just further demonstrates how

Bad BYU is.


Utah reporters

risk undeath to cover the

human-zombie war.


Pretty good work from

my reporters on Day One

of Zombie News Week.


If you only read

one thing about zombies this

evening, read this:


Ernie Pyle they

ain't, but in four days their work

has really improved.


Happy the Beavs won't

Go winless this season. But

it's still not pretty.


Delta forgot to

Schedule pilots for this flight.

What else did they miss?


At two hundred bucks

a night, you'd think free wi-fi

wouldn't be so hard.


Condescending New

Yorkers. Screw you and your lame

ass contemptuousness.


Midwestern friends: How

do you navigate when there's

no topography?


San Francisco here

I come. Right back where I start-

-ed from. La la la.


My teaching heros:

Heidi, my mom, Mr. Nish

And now, this woman...


OSU fans first:

I've got two extra tix to

Beavers at Utah.


Occupy San Fran.

protested me today. (And

Bush and Murdoch, too!)


Well, the last decade

was certainly nice. Now,

back to reality.


Congrats to Chhun Sun,

Writer, friend and funniest

Facebooker ever


'Bacon' power — for

a reporter, that's the best

thing about Facebook.


Sometimes this season

I've wished it was possible

To root for The Ducks.


Night's highlight: When the

Concrete convention guy tried

To start a fight. Lame.


All of my Utah

gear has been put away for

the week. Go Beavers.


Proud of my student,

Kristi, for her first gov'ment

records article.


OSU our hats

are off to you. RSL

our shorts are off, too.


Congrats Utes. Even

bigger props, though, to Real

Salt Lake. Three-nothin'!


Matt, Leah, Ashley,

Chris, Heidi and Mia. Great

Night with great people.


Built my whole lesson

around this nasty little

bastard today. Win.


Fictionist at the

10-year Radio West bash.

Talk about that, Doug!


Spent the evening

with my daughter making this

movie. Oscar please?


Thank you to all of

you who supported this work.

Now please go share it.


Making premature

Plans to go to LA for

The MLS Cup.


The story has nine

hundred Facebook "recommends."

Help us hit a grand?


China's just two months

away. First non-work trip in

so long. I am thrilled!


Vet-specific courts:

Unconstitutional pass

or earned benefit?


Talked about Mingi

with KCPW

host Jeff Robinson.


Good points. But is The

Trib ensuring such standards

for "Close-Up" cit-jos?


Did you know that the

Bill of Rights doesn't include

Camp-outs? It is true


Big insurance hikes

for my Tribune friends. Too late

now too unionize?


Highland High's "The Wiz":

White kids in black roles. Ease on

Down the awkward road.


Heidi: "In China,

we should ask to see the place

where everything's made."


Thanks, Jeremiah

Stettler for your endorsement

of my campaign. Score!


Verizon user?

Keep Big Corporate Brother

Away from your life.


I don't even care

about the rest of the game.

Beaver touchdown. Cool.


Yup, that's more like it.

But OSU, my hat's still

off to you. Go Beavs.


Spike's second movie:

You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll watch it

again and again.


It's a proud day for

the academy in the

Beehive State today.


Ivory tower?

I've been working since 5 in

the bloody morning.


Apparently Spike

Has decided she wants to

Be a prize fighter


A Jedi she is.

Uses the Force, this youngling

Does. She's A New Hope.


Wisconsin versus

Michigan State. Don't know these

teams. But what a game.


Note to Pac-12: That's

what a championship looks

like. Now: Go Badgers.


I feel like I just

lost a member of my own

team. God Speed, Bomma.


Does Salt Lake's new

mobile camera system

violate your rights?


Students applaud on

last day of class. Not quite sure

what they're telling me.


Five years ago we

deported them. So what good

did all that do? None


Interviewed by the

BBC on, of all things,

the Euro? OK...


And they said it would

never happen. Congrats to

Nate and Brook. God speed.


Visas for China

arrived today. So stoked for

vacation. Wànsuì!


Finally, all my

grading is done. (And so is

all of my whiskey.)


Whining Utahns: If

it's really that bad, you can

always move away.


Iraq ends. Our tribe,

like those worlds away, clings to

the myth of martyrs.


Spike's got a "mean girl"

in her life. She won't be the

last. Oh, what a world.


From my brilliant friend

Jessica Ravitz, the best

Santa piece ever


Watching Monday Night

Football and playing dress up

dolls with my daughter.


On Dinosaur Train:

A Solstice Special? Why do

dinos hate Jesus?


Daughter and wife are

Laying in the foyer in

Swimsuits with comics.


A new approach to

the gay rights fight. Hypocrites

should be warned. Karma.


I wrote this five years

ago. Still get a Christmas

call each year from him.


Heidi says she can't

Eat baked potatoes without

Thinking of Chhun Sun.


Addicted to a

sitcom? What the hell? Aren't I

smarter than this junk?


Proud of my former

students, who launched this cit-jo

enterprise this year.


Jason Segel in

Benny Beaver shirt? "Mother"

is my new fav' show.


Reading Spike her book

for the first time. Eight chapters

in, she's hooked. Awesome.


Twenty-eleven:

More than two hundred haikus.

Lots of brevity.




Thursday, December 15, 2011

THE MEAN PEOPLE

Dear Spike:

You were working on a picture when I arrived to pick you up from day care the other day. A pink and purple unicorn, I think it was.

You looked up, acknowledged my presence, and resolutely returned to your artwork.

“Wanna stay a while so you can finish it?” I asked.

“Yes please,” you said without looking up from the page.

“OK.”

I perched on the edge of a bookshelf, right behind you, and chatted with the day care instructors. They always seem so happy to have an adult to talk to. Go figure.

You just kept on working on the picture.

On the other side of the table was a tall girl in a pink shirt. We’ll call her… oh, I don’t know… how about “Larry”?

“Uh-oh!” Larry said, patting you on the arm. “Your dad is leaving you!”

You turned around in an obvious panic to find me still sitting exactly where I had been. You turned back around and scowled at the little girl, who laughed and laughed.

“You tricked me,” you said. “And it’s not very nice to trick people.”

The girl laughed some more. A few moments later, she tried the trick again.

“It’s not very nice,” you said once more as she laughed alongside another little girl. “And it’s not very nice to laugh at people.”

I was very proud of the way you responded. I just wanted to let you know that. I also wanted to let you know that Larry won’t be the last person to be mean to you. Not even close.

And girls, it seems, can be especially cruel to one another.

You consider Larry a friend, but over the past few days, as I’ve asked you questions about her, something has become very clear: Larry is a mean girl.

I didn’t think the “Queen Bee” phenomenon started this early in life, but apparently it does.

“She won’t let me play with Ella,” you told me. “Because she says that Ella is only her friend and so she can’t be my friend.”

“She says I’m not very smart.”

“She says that I can only play with her when she wants to play with me. Today she didn’t want to play with me.”

Yup. Mean girl.

Today was your preschool Christmas concert. All the kids wore pajamas and, in her princess nightgown, it was hard to not think of Larry as just another adorable kid.

But when you all lined up to begin singing, Larry began elbowing you out of the way.

You held your ground. On the next song you changed places so that you wouldn’t be standing next to her. Again, I was very proud — and even more so as the carols continued and you decided, apparently all on your own, that the songs would go well with a bit of interpretive dance.

That’s my girl.

I could be over analyzing this situation. And maybe I am. But I think I might have gotten a glimpse today at why Larry is so mean to you. That’s what happens, sometimes, to kids who stand out.

Let’s be clear: That’s not an admonition to stop standing out. Not at all. Being different, kind and smart — these are the things that make life worth living. I want you to stand out — even if it means that sometimes, you’ll get knocked around a bit by some mean girls (and probably some mean boys, too.)

It won’t always be easy. So it will be important, when you’re going through those moments, to remember a few things:

First and foremost, when it seems like nobody cares, remember that your mother and I love you. Unconditionally. Forever.

And next, when it seems like it will never end, remember that life gets better. And better. And better some more. (But only if you are different, kind and smart. If you’re not, then your life will not get any better. It will just get lonelier. Because mean people get really boring after a while.)

And finally, if it ever begins to feel like the mean people are right about you, remember that they are not as different as you (they don’t have the courage.) They are not as kind as you (they don’t have the heart.) They are not as smart as you (they don’t have the brains.)

That’s right, my little one: You’re like the Lion, the Tin Man, the Scarecrow. In the end, you’ll get your just rewards.

And those mean girls? They’ll just melt away.

Love,

dad

Saturday, November 5, 2011

PLAYED WITHOUT RULES

Dear Spike,

We picked fruit out of the air.

Apples and pears. Peaches and plums. Mangoes. Pineapples.

There is no fall in the Land of Make Believe. No winter. No climates prohibitive of tropical fruit farming.

At your instruction, I released an armful of coconuts onto the platform aside the playground slide, then plucked one from the ground, centered it over an invisible brick, and hurled it downward. It split open into two perfect bowls and we didn’t lose a drop of milk. It’s brilliant what you can do when it doesn’t matter what you do.

We drank the milk, became thirsty, split another, drank some more. We turned the apples and pears into pies. The peaches and plums were jellied. The mangoes…

… hmmm …

… I guess we forgot about the mangoes. Easy thing to do when you’re working with invisible ingredients, I suppose.

The pineapples we cut into spears and ate off skewers. After a while, we’d had our fill and so, quite logically, it was time to stand lookout for sharks.

It might have been five minutes. It might have been 15. It could have been an entire afternoon. Amazing thing, that.

We played without rules. And honestly, I can’t remember the last time I did that.

Oh, I think I do a pretty good job of encouraging your imagination, but I’m always trying to mold it a bit, too — particularly when I see an opportunity to sneak in a smidgen of education.

“OK, so now you have one pony in each hand. And if I give you another pony…”

Or when I sense ridiculous gender constructs sneaking into your pure little mind.

“Let’s play princesses,” you say.

“Let’s play princesses who are superheros or scientists,” I say.

So it goes.

Same too, I admit, when you’re playing with other children. I try very hard not to interfere when others are rude or hurtful to you — figuring that you’ll benefit most from learning how to deal with these situations on your own.

But you’ve got a tendency to be a bit bossy. And I reckon I step in a little too often just to try to rein you in.

On this day, though, I was your first mate. Your wish, my command. I didn’t mind.

What joy.

We did it again the next day. And again the day after that.

My to-do list is 25 items long and getting longer by the day. But all I can think about, lately, is when we’ll get to play that way again.

It’s been a very long time since I visited this place. Thank you for inviting me.

Love,

dad

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

ON THE FIELD

Dear Spike:

For three weeks you sat patiently on the sidelines. Watching. Waiting.

It wasn't fair. But, then, life isn't fair is it? Four years old and you already knew that — even before you broke you toe.

When it was finally time to step back onto the field, you did so tentatively. And tentative, of course, doesn't win soccer games.

And when you did engage the ball in our scrimmage, someone stepped on your foot. I think it scared you, more than it hurt you, and you came to me and asked if you could go sit out again.

I obliged.

But then, perhaps five minutes later, I looked over to the side of the field and saw you sprinting, somersaulting, bouncing up and doing it again. Clearly you were fine.

"Spike!" I yelled. "Get back on the field! If your foot is feeling good enough to fool around over there, it's feeling good enough to come back and practice."

And then something happened.

You rushed into crowd of players. You punched the ball out of the melee. You dribbled to the goal. You shot. You scored.

And then you did it again.

And then you did it again.

Wow.

It's been two weeks, now, and I have not seen that level of play from you again. You've been tentative again. Cautious. Defensive.

Maybe it was just the result of pent-up desire to be on the field. Maybe, once you realized you were OK, something inside of you just opened up. And maybe it closed down, a bit, again after.

That's fine. We'll move at your pace. And I'll just keep raising the bar, little by little by little.

But it's so neat to know it's in you, somewhere.

Love,
dad