This weekend saw me at a wrestling tournament for my son. I haven't seen high school wrestling, or as this was, middle school wrestling, since I participated myself. But that was so many years ago, they did the timing with sundials. The energy permeating the gym was amazing, as was the skill of some of the wrestlers. Some were quite good - to the point of me thinking, "these are seventh graders?!" Spencer did well enough to qualify for the Northern Nevada Regional Finals next week, and he is very excited for the next tournament on the 31st . (OK, I'm excited too.) 

Below is the video of the match that qualified him. It was cut off before the end due to the score differential.  After the match, Spencer was gracious in victory, sincerely shaking hands with his opponent, the ref and the opposing coach. I like that he is being taught to shake the hands of all involved. Sports may end for him at some point in the future, but gracious actions in victory are a life skill.

I also wanted to see one other wrestler in particular. This one young man had an undefeated season rolling along. He was confident, as he had previously met and defeated all potential opponents. I was hoping to catch one or two of his matches - as long as it didn't interfere with seeing Spencer. As it turned out, I saw two of his matches; so much for the undefeated season. He was pinned in both. 

I was curious to see how he would react. Predictably, he was crushed after the first loss. I drifted over to eavesdrop as he was talking to his coach, and later his mom. No blaming, no deflection. He admitted he flat out lost. He was disappointed, sure, but he owned the loss in the same way as you should own the win. All on him. He was smiling and congratulating his ecstatic opponent after the second. That, dear readers, is losing with dignity.

From my perspective, the first match could have gone either way. Both wrestlers were good, and the match exciting. The second? Well, I think he wanted to get it over with, and went with a high-risk/high reward move. Unfortunately, he missed the high reward and was left with the high risk. It happens.

On another note, after the tournament, I went for my longest reasonably-pain-free run in weeks. Of course, it was barely 5K. Still, a pain free 5K is more than I had a month ago. Maybe the hip and glute strengthening program I am doing is working. That and/or the planking. I am up to 2:30 per plank on elbows, then shortly thereafter, on hands. What I like about the regimen is that I can read while doing it. I was wrapping up Brent Weeks' The Black Prism. Great stuff to take your mind off the pain and trembling of your muscles.

No this isn't the Weekend Update of my youth, with the anchor telling me, "Good evening. I'm Chevy Chase, and you're not." If you don't get it, you're too young. Ask your Uncle Google, and get off my lawn.

This weekend was an interesting, for several disparate reasons. The first one, chronologically, at least happened on Friday: I became officially unemployed. I don't expect that condition to last any longer than 8:00 am tomorrow morning, though, when I sign my employment papers for my new position. As my father (RIP) told me oh, so many years ago, "Never leave a job with no place to land." Ever since that advice, I've never resigned one position without a second already arranged. It made sense to me then as a teenager and it makes even more sense to me now as a parent. I will keep a job regardless of how unpleasant the work, or the conditions, if I have my kids to provide for. I will admit, I've never had a really ugly, shitty job though. If I did, my absolute statement may not stand.

The second thing that happened was my daughter participated in a 3 vs. 3 soccer tournament. I hadn't seen one of them before, and I must say, they are fun to watch. It's kind of like Futsal, but outdoors with a smaller goal and no keeper. Her team, CSC  U10 won their age division with a 3-0-1 record, outscoring their opponents 16-6 (1-1, 5-2, 5-1, 5-2). Congratulations, Mikaela, you and your teammates played awesomely! And it truly was a team effort. The passing was what really made the difference. The weather, was not a factor, though...

Winter made an appearance in mid-March. That's not unexpected, but really? Really? After a super dry (though chilly) Dec - Feb., March has come to call, both cold and wet. Three inches of snow on the ground when we left for the final game today, but only a bit left on the field as you can see from the photo. That wasn't the tough part: the tough part was the raw 20+ mph winds and mid 30sF temps. Brrr. I think the parents deserved medals for standing in it like frozen statues. All applause was muffled by gloves: whump, whump, whump.

I had been planning on spending my Saturday in Fernley in the warm confines of a gymnasium, leaving the cold of the soccer pitch to my blushing bride. But my man-cub forgot his wrestling gear, and so attending the tournament was a no-go. I played the gallant, and offered to do the soccer thing. An offer that was accepted almost before I finished offering. Well, hmm. We'll have to see what that gets me. Karma points anyone?

I spent this past weekend in Colorado, visiting with my ailing father, and reacquainting with my siblings. Over the span of the 16 years I've continuously been living in Nevada, and they (mostly) in Colorado, a distance had arisen that these past couple of visits has significantly diminished. I've spent more time in the last 4 weeks with my parents than I have in the previous 10 years.

My father is not going to get better, and I am finally coming to grips with that. I regret the missed opportunities over those 16 years for holiday visits, birthday parties, or even just meeting for an FAC beer at the Morrison Inn, as we used to back in the 80s and early 90s. Hanging out, watching basketball on TV and just being in the room this weekend was a good thing for me, but I needed to get back to my kids and my family, so the visit wasn't any longer than the weekend.

On the ride to the airport on Sunday, my good friend and I talked about losing a parent. Rather, he talked and I listened, since he walked through that particular valley of hell a few years ago with his mother. He suggested I write a letter to Dad that he could read – and maybe re-read – until I can get back for my next visit. Maybe, just maybe, I can impart to him those things I am simply incapable of saying, using written words instead. What a great suggestion. 

Looks like I have a letter to write.