Health & Fitness
Field of Screams
I could get kicked out of Summit for admitting I never played lacrosse.
On warm spring days I can’t wait to toss the baseball around. “How about a game of catch?” I asked my son enthusiastically one glorious Saturday morning. “No thanks, Dad,” he replied nonchalantly, oblivious of my pained expression, “I’d rather play lacrosse.”
Lacrosse?
These days, lacrosse is an increasingly popular springtime sport in Summit, complete with a well-organized club, a championship high school team, and overly engaged parents. But for Dads like me who naively grew up believing that baseball was the quintessential American sport, lacrosse still seems like a silly stick game introduced by communist Frenchmen with a disdain for peanuts and Cracker Jack.
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But the real problem is this: the only thing I know about La Crosse is that it is somewhere in Wisconsin and home to Old Style beer and the G. Heileman Brewing Company. So until my kids are old enough to drink beer, lacrosse is probably not a sport I can help them with.
Still, not wanting to miss out on a father-son bonding experience, I came up with a compromise. “You use your stick and I will catch with my mitt!” I told him.
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We took our hallowed positions in silence at opposite ends of the yard. I pounded the ball into my mitt a few times, then wound up and stiffly tossed him the ball. Being the first throw of the season it was a bit high and wide for him to catch. But he deftly extended his stick and snatched the ball clean in the net. And then, with one continuous motion he brought the net around in a long graceful arc and flung the ball back to me. It went like a missile, straight over the top of my mitt and into my forehead, knocking me flat to the ground.
And then, a dark shadow crossed the brilliant sky. It hovered above me, a black silhouette against the sun. It was the head of an Imperial Storm Trooper from the G. Heileman brewing company. “Dad! Dad!” it shouted, “Are you OK?”
As I said, I don’t know much about lacrosse, but I am sure glad his toss wasn’t three feet lower.
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