Violation Of Team Rules

I have to bench my own son. What? Yep, that is the position I'm in after an ugly afternoon at the gym whereby my 10-year old's behavior merited a first-quarter sit-down for Saturday's game. The punishment has been threatened during this season, and today I had to pull the trigger.

The transgressions will remain confidential. I can trot out the 'We're handling the matter internally' when the media asks about the benching. And Tyler has good behavior far more often than not, so don't start thinking we have a Ron Artest on our hands. But a lesson has to be enforced, and we'll see if it makes an impact.

Tyler's squad sits at 0-3 right now after three close losses, and he is one of the better players we have. All eight teams in our league are very balanced, so we're due for a win or two in the next few weeks. Of course, kids being kids, whenever I do get a few of them over there to the gym for some extra practice, a series of one-handed three-pointers are the shot of choice. Practicing these hasn't seemed to pay off on Saturdays.

Will, on the other hand, took his session this afternoon seriously, working on lay-ups, rebounds and dribbling. Our wild man, who's life motto seems to be 'How can I make this more fun?', really wanted to work on his game. Maturity? Perhaps. Will's team, which I also coach, sports a 2-1 record, and again Will is one of our better players. The 2nd-3rd grade league is really a free-for-all, since the game is held on a halfcourt, with 10 bodies crammed into a very small area. It is part rugby-in-a-closet, part dodge-ball, but if you have a player or two that likes to charge through the chaos to the hoop, you're in good shape. Will is one of those players.

So tomorrow, it will be Will's game at 12:30, a lunch break back home, and Tyler's at 4 before heading back to the office for the night shift. Five more Saturday doubleheaders for the season, and I'm looking forward to all of them.

All Choked Up

"We had sort of a freaky morning."

That was my greeting this morning from the beloved wife when I stumbled downstairs at 11. Jimmer Fredette pushed my bedtime to 4 am with his most Jimmer-licious performance to date, so I didn't mind staying a shade late at work. [For the uninitiated, or the dues-paying members of ever-growing the Jimmer Cult, here's Kelli Anderson's quality report from Provo.]

It wasn't a great sleep, but I was relatively awake and reaching for the Cheerios when Amy advised me of the 'freaky morning'. Now, the canvas is pretty much wide-open when it comes to our kids, 'freaky', and mornings. Did Mia change her mind on what hat to wear for Hat Day? Did Tyler forget that six-page book report was due TODAY? Was Will driving our schizofrenic dog nuts? I was ready for another marble to put in the Illogical Things Our Kids Do jar, when I was hit with what must have been as frightening a 10 seconds a parent can have.

"Mia choked on some bacon and I had to do the Heimlich," Amy said, still shaken up and unsure of exactly what it was she did. Amy said Mia stopped making noise, was waving her arms and was clearly in distress. Amy stood her up on the couch, pushed on her chest from behind and out came the bacon. Amy said Mia cried, and explained that she is really good holding her breath swimming, but that is when she gets to take a deep breath to start, and she didn't get to take a deep breath when she was eating her bacon.

Like all children, Mia bounced back quicker than the adult. She was ready for school not too much later, unlike her drained mother, who wouldn't have minded decompressing on the couch for a few hours. The whole thing was so surreal to me, I had a hard time even contemplating the horror of those 10 seconds. We always had a choking fear when the kids were babies, but those days are long gone. I hope I would have reacted like Amy did, but who knows? Thankfully, she was the superstar when it counted. I bought her flowers when I went to Kroger later that morning, making me almost as much of a superstar, at least in my eyes.

Anyway, this blog isn't supposed to be heavy on drama and reflection and self-discovery and other things that Julia Roberts inevitably experiences in her movies. Today's story was unique, and hopefully never to be repeated. We can now get back to our regularly scheduled programming of cluelessness, Wii conflicts and youthful innocence that demands to be chronicled.

Getting Started

About a year ago, colleague of mine, who has since improved his lot in life by moving to New York and getting assignments such as traveling to Hawaii to play golf and traveling to Las Vegas to interview Natalie Gulbis, suggested I start a blog. Perhaps I had regaled him with too many stories of youth basketball plays gone awry, swim team politics and general observations that come with having three elementary-school aged children. My friend, in his early 30s and enjoying the single life, seemed genuinely amused at what would happen inside the Trocchi household.

"I would read it," he said of the blog he proposed for me, noting that the general populace probably would not be interested, and he would be doing none of the work.

Jeff Ritter -- this blog's for you.