Many weeks ago Kiernan wanted to throw the ball around. Just a little soft rubber ball we had that we played with around the house. So we squared off to play catch for a bit. I didn't think much of this. We are often athletic. We wrestle around all the time. Jump on the trampoline. Play plenty of soccer. He's really, really good at soccer. He's never really taken to baseball, though, so I didn't think much of throwing the ball around.
Holy cats. Suddenly this boy can catch.
It was one of those moments when you realize your kid has made a leap forward on his own. I don't know how this happened. We've played around plenty. As I said, we're fairly athletic and physical together. But this. This was something else. This was like a leap forward in evolution. Or like a radioactive spider had bitten him.
"Geez, Kiernan," I said, catching the ball as he threw it back. "How did you start catching so well?"
He shrugged and his smile beamed back at me. "I dunno."
A couple weeks later when Pap-Pap was visiting we played catch in the back yard. Pap-Pap acted as a backstop behind Kiernan, lest the ball should go in the new pool Wendy had put up in the back yard. We wouldn't have needed a backstop necessarily since Kiernan is so good at playing catch now, but he was at that point where he wanted me to throw it higher so he could make tougher catches. I totally got this request since whenever I played football or baseball the most fun I had was when I had to make a really tough catch. I mean a dive-and-stretch-out-your-body kind of catch. I always loved those. He is clearly heading in that direction.
Which leads me to football and the picture that heads this entry.
We've never played football together. However, playing catch with him got me to thinking. I don't want him to play football in any sort of league. Not at this age. I don't think it's good for his body and his development. But learning the skills is fun, and this fact, combined with his proficiency in catching and throwing a regular old round ball with me made me decide to buy him a football for Christmas. His only real exposure to the sport has been through watching NFL games with his Grance and Gammy. The only time I've seen him handle a football was in playing keep-away with his friends after school.
So...a football under the Christmas tree. Cool. Then we went outside.
"You stand over there, Dad. Up the hill."
"Okay."
He threw me the ball for the first time.
Perfect spiral.
Oh goodness.
It was just one of those moments. I've always been good at sports, to an extent. I'm really good at the guard position in basketball and the receiver position in football. I've never been that good at throwing a football though. My son is. Wow. Out of nowhere. Wow. I hadn't even gotten into instructing him yet. I'm still working on that. Teaching him how to put his fingers on the laces. Getting him to concentrate every time when he throws the ball. Instructing him how to avoid getting his fingers jammed when catching the ball from me. Those things are happening now. But at that first moment, he just took the ball I'd just given him and threw it perfectly into my hands, twenty feet away and up hill, without even thinking about it.
Look, I'm not saying he's Peyton Manning, or that I even want him to be. I'm just painting a moment. The very first time my boy threw a football it was a perfect spiral. I had nothing to do with that. He just did it.
So...I'm bragging. Yeah. I know I'm bragging. But good lord, I think I have good reason. He threw a perfect spiral on his very first throw!
That's all. I'll talk about golf and baseball later.
