I've decided that I will take a good few weeks break from blogging on Christmas eve and may write the odd entry here and there. I will have cracked 100 entries by then so a well earned rest will do me no harm.
I am currently reading ex Hawthorn footballer Shane Crawford and Glen McFarlane's co written autobiography That's What I'm Talking About and I'm enjoying the chatty and honest nature of the book. Crawford was a BMX enthusiast and beat the reigning Australian champion but his Mum couldn't afford to support that pursuit so he chose footy instead.
It's funny how your kids get thrown into sport and tend to begin in a safe pursuit that mum or dad like and can afford. My son gravitated towards balls when we were still counting his age in months. He is rarely seen without some sort of shaped ball in his hand. I've avoided any sport with an early rise requirement, like swimming, and steered my daughter from the competitive and sequin-sewing world of dancing.
Elite athletes have committed and supportive parents. Leyton Hewitt, Shane Crawford, Tiger Woods and the Williams sisters would never have accomplished all their pool room treasures without someone driving them to practice, buying their equipment and cheering them through wins and losses.
My hub and I stood out in the rain and cheered our son on in his cricket match tonight. Not because we think he is the next Ricky Ponting but because sport is so important physically, socially and emotionally and our son just can't get enough of it, even trading his best friend's 6th birthday party and a bottomless plate of fairy bread for the cricket whites.
An insatiable appetite for sport and unwavering parental support -That's What sic[Crawford's] Talking About!"
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