TaDaaaaa!!!!!!!

We still have some skills to refine...riding on the sidewalk is still a work in progress, as is stopping the bike without the 'dive and roll' dismount.

Before, he was just terrified of the whole process. Now, he just needs a little help to get started, and then he's off riding around like it's no big thing. I figure we'll just keep practicing every chance we get, and he'll keep improving and getting more confident each time.

I'm pretty danged proud of my son. I wonder if he'll ever know just how my heart bursts with joy every time I hear him laugh out there as I watch him ride unassisted?

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In other news, I've got another lacrosse game tomorrow...we're playing a tough team, but we've picked up a few new players that have kicked our talent level up a notch. My training this week was not quite as consistent as I'd like, but I think I'll be ready for the game.

Most of the time, we play to a crowd of about..lessee...carry the one...maybe 6 or 8 people. That includes fans for the opposing team, by the way. These folks are usually spouses of the players, or maybe a buddy or two who enjoy seeing their friends get knocked around.

I must be honest...I love when friends and family come out to watch me play. Not because I want them to see me being an awesome player on the field, though. I'm just not that good. Mostly it's because I love to laugh with them about my gaffs and goofs afterwards...of those, I have plenty. Sure, I occasionally score a goal or two, and maybe I make a decent hit on an opponent now and then, and hearing a "GO WHIT!!" cheer from the sidelines is really fabulous. But more often, I'm looking for a reason to laugh and say, "Hey, did you see that guy knock the crap out of me?"

When I play, I play as hard as I possibly can. I do everything I can to help my team win, every single time I step on the field...but losing doesn't really bother me. I compete as though I plan to win, as though I absolutely intend to win...but if we don't, I accept the outcome and just delight in the fact that I LOVE this game. I LOVE being able to play it, and I LOVE being able to share it with others, whether I was the "Most Valuable Player", or the 'Guy Who Got Knocked Down Most Often." It's all fun to me.

Ride, boy, ride!

Well, the time has finally come...I've decided to teach my boy to ride his bike without training wheels. Being the sweet, sensitive soul that he is, he wasn't too thrilled about the idea at first. There are times when he is completely fearless, but this is not one of those times. My gorgeous wife was babysitting most of the day on Sunday, so I took that opportunity to take off those training wheels, lace up my running shoes, and get things underway.

Did I mention that Sunday is usually my "Doughnuts and Couch" Day? I didn't realize that this day's training would involve me running behind and alongside Monkey's bike for approximately six miles, which is in direct conflict with said "D and C" activities. Wow.

We started off going back and forth down our street...it's a dead-end, so there's not much traffic. At first, I tried to hold onto the back of his bicycle seat like my Dad did, but running up and down the block hunched over started to make me pray for death, so I tried grabbing a handful of Monkey's shirt instead...BINGO! That worked like a charm. I ran alongside his bike while he pedaled and tried to get his balance.

After a dozen or so trips up and down the street, we headed for the nearby Junior High, and all its sidewalks, parking lots, and practice fields. Things fell apart soon after, as we both got tired, and decided to call it a day. But there was definitely progress!

Tuesday afternoon, we geared up and went at it again. This time, we went straight to the practice field so that he could fall in the grass. It took us quite a few tries, but before too long, the boy was riding all by himself! Granted, his steering skills were non-existent, and the only way he knew how to stop was by flinging himself over the handlebars, but he was riding! I'll never forget that moment when I finally let go of his shirt, and saw him wobble, wobble...and keep on riding. He laughed then, from pure joy, and I did too. "You're doing it! You're riding all by yourself!!" I yelled encouragement while he rode. I'll treasure that memory forever.

And then he pitched over the handlebars to land in the grass. (Sigh) "OK, boy, let's get back on and do it again!"

He was a pretty good sport about it, and had a blast on that field. The sidewalk home was another matter, since he was thoroughly spent by then, but his fabulous mother had seen us as she had come home from babysitting, and walked out to meet us. We all walked home together, Monkey pushing his bike along, and we celebrated our little victories. We'll hit it again on Friday, when he's got a holiday from school.

I've really enjoyed this minor adventure, and it's not over yet. I know that before too long, he'll be riding that Spider-Man bike all over the place, popping wheelies, jumping curbs, and who knows what else? The biggest lesson I want him to learn is that it's OK to be afraid...as long as we don't let our fear keep us from doing things. Seems like he's learning.