Everyone who knows us, knows what a big deal sports are in this house. My husband works in the world of professional athletics and it's all trickle down from there. About six years ago, professional athletics and homeschooling converged in a strange way. To make a long story a bit shorter, Bobby Convey, a sixteen-year-old professional soccer player, became a member of our family. He lived and learned and loved with us. He was my introduction to high school at home and my introduction to "mothering" a gifted athlete.
Now, I have a gifted teenaged athlete who looks a bit more like me and is pursuing his education at home in much the same way Bobby did (that is, between tournaments and training sessions and marathon eating and sleeping binges). And Bobby has moved to England to play in the Premier League. But time will stop here in the heart of my home in the next few weeks. And the television will be on at odd hours as we watch the boy we love--now a man--play for the United States National Team in the World Cup in Germany.
Our weekly copy of Sports Illustrated arrived yesterday. Bobby is on the cover. And there's a darling picture of him inside (I'm allowed to gush a bit; he's "my" boy).Looking at his face, I remembered all the tired phone calls, all the discouraging, lonely times his first year in England, all the tearful growing pains of the last six years. And my eyes filled with tears (I'm allowed to cry whenever I want; I'm pregnant). My boys, on the other hand, are absolutely gleeful and have not put the magazine down since it arrived--it moves from one of them to another. The cover of SI is every athlete's dream (well, except for that curse myth). And this cover boy is so real to them. They know his favorite meal, his bad habits (we won't tell;-), his penchant for order and cleanliness. They know him; they love him; and they are so proud of him.
Godspeed, big guy. Do well. It is a dream come true.