When I think back on my childhood summers, I don’t remember beaches.
I remember ballfields.
While other families were planning vacations, ours was planning tournament schedules.
Every Friday afternoon, my parents loaded up a car full of equipment, snacks, coolers, and a kid who couldn’t wait for the weekend to begin. Looking back now, I can’t tell you exactly how many miles we drove or how many hotels we stayed in, or how my young back survived sleeping across the hump between the two back seats of my mom’s Chevrolet Camaro.. What I do know is that somehow, after working all week, they always found the energy to do it all again on Saturday morning.
There is one weekend I’ll never forget.
I played two early morning travel softball games before we piled into the car and drove what felt like halfway across Arkansas for an AAU basketball tournament. We played several basketball games that afternoon before climbing right back into the car and racing to make it back to the softball fields in time to finish the last couple of games that evening.
Then we woke up Sunday morning…and did it all over again.
At the time, it seemed perfectly normal.
Now?
I’m exhausted just telling the story.
Honestly, I don’t know how I survived that much competition in one weekend.
Then again, that’s probably the advantage of being fourteen.
Your knees don’t ache.
Your back doesn’t negotiate with you every morning.
And somehow you believe you could play one more game forever.
But the older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve stopped wondering how I did it…and started wondering how my parents did. How did they work all week and still have enough energy to spend every weekend on the road? How did they afford the entry fees, the gas, the meals, the hotel rooms, and everything else that came with chasing two kids around the state? How did they keep smiling after another 5:00 a.m. alarm clock? How did they never make me feel like it was a burden?
As kids, we don’t think about those things.
We assume the coolers magically fill themselves.
The gas tank somehow stays full.
The uniforms come out of the laundry basket clean.
The tournament entry gets paid.
The hotel gets booked.
The folding chairs unfold themselves.
We just showed up and played. Our parents carried everything else.
The funny thing is, I never felt like I was missing out on summer.
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Sure, there weren’t many long vacations. There wasn’t always a week at the beach. There weren’t many weekends sitting around the house.
Instead, we stole summer wherever sports took us.
Sometimes it was finding a cool local restaurant after the last game. Sometimes it was laughing with teammates in a hotel hallway. Sometimes it was simply watching the sun come up through the windshield on the way to another tournament.
Those became our vacations.
Those became our adventures.
Looking back now, I realize something I never understood as a kid.
My parents weren’t sacrificing their summers.
They were investing in mine.
I don’t ever remember hearing them complain even though I’m sure they were tired and money was tight sometimes. I just never knew it.
I think that’s one of the reasons I care so deeply about giving kids opportunities to play today. Because I know firsthand that what feels like just another practice or just another tournament often becomes the memory that lasts a lifetime.
Kids remember the games.
Parents remember the sacrifice.
Years later…
We finally understand they were giving us far more than a chance to compete.
We were both remembering the same summer.
Just from different seats.
And if you asked me today what I remember most, it wouldn’t be the scores. It wouldn’t be the trophies. It wouldn’t even be who won.
I’d remember waking up before daylight with people who believed I was worth every mile, every tank of gas, every missed vacation, and every sacrifice they quietly made without ever asking for anything in return.
Turns out…We didn’t miss summer at all.
We stole it.
And that’s how the ball really bounces.
Read more from How the Ball Bounces with Bekka in the archives at www.mysaline.com/bounces.
About the author: Bekka Wilkerson is a lifelong lover of all things sports. Raised in a super athletic household it was no surprise when she too began to love sports at a young age. It seems like from the time she could walk she had a softball bat in her hands, but her true athletic passion came from all things Basketball. That love served her well as a Bryant High School Lady Hornet and ultimately earned her a full scholarship to play at the University of Central Arkansas – among many other adventures.
These days Bekka can be found running around Saline County with her husband, Speedy, or chasing one of her grandsons. She is also the Executive Director of The EMpact One Foundation, a Saline County Nonprofit Organization that helps young people stay connected to extracurricular activities through tuition assistance and equipment provisions.
Reach out to Bekka with questions and/or ideas about things you want to see in this column at [email protected] and learn more about The EMpact One Foundation at www.empactone.org.
