Dear Cody,
You are…read morestarting to get heavy in my arms. With your head on my shoulders, I can feel your warm chubby cheeks on my neck, and the frequent drool on my shoulders. Holding you as if you are a koala bear is simply the best feeling. Yet, the beginning signs of strain on my biceps and back tell me that this won't go on forever. Soon you'll be too big for me to carry, and even sooner still, you won't want to be a Koala on Mommy and me anymore.
We get a glimpse of this when we take our walks at West Sunset Playground. As soon as you hear the playground sounds -- a cacophony of balls bouncing on concrete, hurried footsteps of kids playing tag, and the accompanying shouts and laughter -- your eyes light up. You raise both your arms and extend your legs, an instinctive maneuver in trying to slide down from Mommy's hug, with full intent in joining the kids twice your size. Soon, we'd say, soon Cody, you'll get to play with the big kids.
As much as I'll miss holding you in my arms, I do look forward to you growing big enough to play sports. The playground has everything. In the first divide, there are two basketball hoops, modern backboard and always with fresh netting (thanks to the nice folks from maintenance). Next to them are two tennis courts frequently occupied older gentlemen in a savvy game of doubles. The adjacent divide holds a full baseball field, equipped with a nice diamond and accompanying batting cages. Finally, the last divide is a field of grass large enough for a full size soccer pitch. Whereas most playgrounds opt for the low maintenance astro turf, West Sunset Playground affords its visitors the feeling of slicing up dirt and grass during a game of soccer. To the West, the pitch overlooks a sloping Pacific Ocean. Blazing orange under the setting sun, with the lavender skies just above. This pitch may be one of the hidden gems in our neighborhood.
Which sport do you think you would like to play? There's a book called '10,000 hours' or something, proposing that one can become a master of anything if one devotes 10,000 hours of practice in that one task. It's not difficult to imagine the next crop of world-class professionals taking this route to perfect their craft. A teen in a basketball court putting up a hundred shots a day, focusing on letting the ball rotate out from the fingertips in a follow-through. Another may be slinging pitches towards home plate. Using camera equipment to capture arm slots and release points, he hopes to achieve the optimal spin rate to raise velocity. And one may be on the corner of the pitch by herself, counting up to the hundreds as she controls the soccer ball in an intense bout of keepie-uppies, determined to master her skills to the point where to an oncoming ball, her feet are indistinguishable from the feathery touch of a velvet cushion.
Cody, take some advice from your old man. Devotion at that level are to be admired. But you'll only be a kid once, and it's so important to just have fun. And that may mean doing cross-overs at the top of the key, pretending to be Allen Iverson facing off against an imaginary Jordan. Or experience the thrill of swinging at an underhand toss and hearing the rewarding clink as you throw away the bat and circle the bases in a make-belief Giants World Series. And maybe you are standing in that beautiful pitch, with a taste of morning dew in the air, and you run up to kick the ball at an angle and watch it curve and bend into an empty goal. There is a lot of fun in learning something entirely new. The excitement of experiencing the little intricacies of each sport, each game, is something that I have enjoyed throughout my life. Does it make it less likely to master a sport? Certainly. But I'll go watch all of your little league games and be proud of you anyways, even if you aren't a teenage phenom, even if you are just a kid having fun. You'll be my very own Mak of All Trades -- a Master of Fun.
I imagine in a few years, we'll leave West Sunset Playground together, after your games. Mommy and I holding your duffle, while you run and jump and ask us the "did you see me do that!?". And a few years after that, you may walk up for a hug, before asking if you can go with your pals to ice cream before running off with a quick wave. Then some more years after that, I'll be panting and sweating after a game of HORSE, and you'll drive us back home to a Christmas dinner where you'll tell us all about your first semester in college.
But for now, and for as long as you let us, Mommy and I would like to hold you in our arms as we walk past Ortega Library and towards home. Sure, there is an amount there is an amount of discomfort from the stress on our biceps, and we are certain to be sore all the way home. Even so, you are our koala bear right now, and that's worth having our biceps aching, all the time. I bet we will miss it when the soreness is gone.
Love always,
Daddy
