Happy 9th Birthday Colton Godfrey
Another year gone by. And needless to say, the pandemic has made it a particularly crazy one. Here are some of my favorite memories from the past 12 months:
Basketball:
Let’s start with sports (obviously). The prior year you swept the regular season before being swept out of the first round of the playoffs (losing the ‘best of 1’ series by 2 points). This year, after a dominating scrimmage game your student coach declared “Oh my gosh, we’re going to win the championship!” Then you started out 0–2 and were about to go 0–3 before Connor and you each hit 3-pointers in the final minute to squeak out a contested* tie. Now sitting at an underwhelming 0–2–1, the prospects for a championship season did not look good.
Not so fast. You proceeded to roll off fourstraight wins, and sneak into the final playoff spot thanks to a timely forfeit from the would-be 4th place team. Not to mention that you avoided your own forfeit by recruiting Cam and his buddy Carter to fill out your roster that same week. After a thrilling double-overtime victory in the semis (youth sports is INTENSE!!!), you cruised to a comfortable win in the championship to take home your 2nd Next Level trophy of 2019.
I sure hope nothing bad happens in 2020 to kill our momentum…
*Contested because technically there aren’t supposed to be 3-pointers in the 2nd grade division. But there’s not supposed to be automatic points given for “and-1” calls either, and the other team got two of those. So I guess in this case two wrongs really do make a right? Or if not a right, at least a trophy, which is better anyway.
Soccer:
This was your first year playing AYSO on a big field (and keeping score!). It was like a whole different game. Goalies. Corner kicks. Positions. They put you at midfield because of your speed and energy, but no one told you that maybe, just maybe, for the first time in your life, you should pace yourself. You went full speed and by halftime were wrecked. I have never ever seen you so tired. Ever. It was a tough season of mostly losses. Your only goal was waived off when another member of your team was called offsides. Not a lot of fun.
Could that be the end of your soccer career?
Not quite. In the spring we signed you up for Force (like a “Select” or “Club” team). You got to practice with Carter Golde, Joshua, and Sam, along with real actual soccer training from an expert coach. In your first game you scored a goal and assisted on another in a 2–1 victory. You were excited. I was excited. Even your “I don’t want to be a soccer mom” mom was excited. Then covid-19 hit and soccer (along with everything else) got shut down. A sadly recurring theme of this year.
What could have been? What would have been? This fall is not looking promising to find out, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed for next spring.
Monkey business:
The only thing you love more than sports is goofing around. You’re always climbing something, or jumping off/into/over something, or wrestling your brother, or punching him in the face. Your energy is infectious, which is great on the soccer field or basketball court.
But its not so great when Mom and I are trying to work from home (stupid covid) and you and Cam are supposed to be doing home school (man I hate you covid) and you can’t stay quiet for just one minute so I can finish yet another Zoom call (I hate covid so very very much) and now I’m running down the stairs with my laptop and yelling for everyone to get outside except I forgot to mute and now whatever little respect my co-workers might have had for me has turned to pity and concern that maybe JoeJoeDaddio is a little tooooo stressed right now and it might be only a matter of days before he completely snaps and when is that vaccine going to be ready again?
Sorry, went off the rails there for a minute. Covid you know. What was I talking about? Oh yeah, you’re a goofy kid. Keep it up!
Baseball:
Coming off a mostly pretty great 2019 spring season (close loss in the championship game notwithstanding), in fall 2019 you played with the big boys. Your team was all 3rd-5th graders, which many kids would find intimidating. You? All you could think about is how you’d finally be allowed to steal bases.
In the first scrimmage game you laid down a bunt, took 2nd on a throwing error, and then stole 3rd and home on passed balls. As an aside — who said you can bunt? Turns out Coach Larry had taken his hat off in frustration about something else, and that was apparently the bunt sign which Larry, me, and everyone on the team except you had forgotten. Well, it all worked out. But next time, try to drag that bunt down the line instead of sending it right back to the pitcher, OK?
We won only one game, and unlike in A/Cal not every ball you put in play was an automatic single. But you got to pitch several times, played every position (including catcher, where, terrifyingly you’d step forward to catch the pitches that thankfully the batter didn’t swing at and break your hand), and continued to develop your skills. And you provided ongoing comedy for Coach Larry when on multiple occasions you’d dive to the ground thinking the pitch was going to hit you, only to have the umpire yell “strike!” Classic.
In the spring, we assembled a great team of kids and parents who were the envy of all. But like all things Spring of 2020, Covid-19 stole most of our season. Let’s just assume we’d have won it all and added another trophy to the case. With Jason on the coaching staff and our solid 1–12 lineup, it seems the most likely outcome. Done and done.
Injuries:
With three sports, your body took a beating. You collapsed in a soccer game, grabbed your knee and immediately said “I want to come out” which I’ve never, ever heard you say. Then your other knee buckled playing basketball. After another week of your knee feeling “off”, we took you to a specialist who noted that your hips aren’t very flexible and gave you some stretches.
This is of course in addition to having one of your front teeth knocked out (thankfully a baby tooth) and the constant scrapes, bruises and bumps that comes with being an aggressive boy with an equally aggressive brother. Regardless, it appears that maybe you’ve inherited my injury-proneness (definitely a word). A life of braces, athletic tape, rehab, and lots and lots of lots of stretching awaits you.
As an aside, you lost your other front tooth naturally around the same time. It fell out on a Friday, but I didn’t see you that night and so first noticed on Saturday morning, which led to this interesting conversation:
Me: hey! Your tooth finally fell out! Where is it?
Mom: well…
Me: did you swallow it?
Mom: it fell out yesterday at school, and the tooth fairy didn’t come last night
Me: really?
You: that’s because YOU’RE the tooth fairy!
Me: Ah, but I was here last night! So if I am the tooth fairy I could have easily put money under your pillow
You: but you didn’t KNOW I’d lost my tooth!
Me: um…uh…who wants ice cream!
Rubik’s magic (and some regular magic too):
At some point you saw Gaby solve a Rubik’s cube and said “I want to do that too.” And to your credit, you not only learned how to solve the cube, but started practicing your speed, trying to solve it in less than a minute (so close!). We’d race, and you’d win at least 90% of the time. I’ve given up, but at least Gaby can still beat you.
And, you learned how to solve the 2x2. And the 4x4. And the pyramid. And the skewb. In fact, you once set out to solve every rubiks puzzle in the house in the less than an hour. Sadly, the 5x5 remains slightly beyond your grasp (again…so close!). But I love the ambition!
When you got bored of solving every Rubik puzzle known to man, you had a brief flirtation with magic. Again inspired by Gaby (or, more specifically, Gaby’s brother who would wow you with tricks over Facetime), you decided to start inventing your own tricks. This ‘3 cards becomes 4’ trick is pretty nifty, but shortly after mastering it you kinda lost interest.
Lightning round:
There are a ton of random things that don’t really justify their own section, but bear mentioning. So without further ado…
- You’ve gotten really into card games. You used to love Gin Rummy, but now it’s all about poker. You’d force Grandma to play with you, and when I play with my friends (via Zoom of course — damn you covid!!!) you stay up to watch late into the night. If you’re really bored and really alone, you’ll even play solitaire.
- You fancy yourself a body builder. Nice effort, but we have some work to do
- Kerri almost really regretted tricking you in to drinking pickle juice. Thankfully, no one has puke control like you. No one
- Getting you to practice piano is still brutal. I’m losing steam on this one.
- You apparently see us as equals, based on this coaster where we appear to both be college basketball players. That said, it is cool that you still see me as a young athletic guy instead of the frail and deteriorating mess that is my body and hairline.
- You aren’t always great at listening to Mom and doing what she (or I asks). But I think you want to do better. Your heart is in the right place, we just need to get your head there as well.
- You still love running. And skiing. And anything else athletic. When we went to Diamond Peak over New Years (thanks Leahys!!), you only wanted to hit the terrain park so you could “do tricks”.
- You’re a voracious reader, but you mostly want to read short books. And you’re very picky. So we now own virtually every “Who is” book ever written, but still don’t have anything “new” to read.
“School”
2nd grade with Mrs. Conway was going great. She was an amazing teacher who challenged you to always do your best and push yourself beyond the minimum requirements. And she didn’t put up with any nonsense, which is arguably the most critical trait for educating 8 year olds (at least the 8 year olds you hang out with).
You were still interested in math and recess, but less so the other aspects of school. Getting you to write more than a couple paragraphs was like pulling teeth without novocain (or tools). And your spelling tests were decidedly hit or miss. You got a 15/20 and Mom nearly lost her mind. She pinned that test to the fridge and improving your spelling became her primary mission in life. With the fear of God suddenly thrust upon you, you always got at least 90% (and usually 100%) after that. Until home schooling started and your spelling went to hell again, as this test from April demonstrates.
Home schooling was quite a struggle — particularly motivating you to, you know, do the work. We’re one week into your 3rd grade distance learning and things are looking up. Just do your best and hopefully, mercifully we’ll have you back in the classroom (and out of my house) soon.
Covid Goodness:
I’ve been giving Covid a hard time, and deservedly so. But there have been a few silver linings.
Biking:
One of the first things you learned to do after the shutdown was ride a bike (thanks yet again Gaby!). At first it was just as the church parking lot, but then you would ride around the block, then two blocks over, and now you’ll ride all the way to Carter’s house a mile away. The first time you didn’t even let us know (not awesome) and then sort of attempted to ride home until thankfully Liz Loew spotted you looking confused and exhausted and drove you home. This newfound freedom worries me a little, but as someone who basically lived on my bike at your age, I’m happy to see you gain that responsibility that comes with a bike. Just please, please, please — WATCH OUT FOR CARS!!!
Skateboarding:
Gaby also taught you some skateboarding because, why not? Like skiing, you really only want to ride over obstacles and do tricks.
Time spent with close friends:
Initially our covid bubble was very tight. Just us and our immediate neighbors. That gave you a lot of time to hang out with Deven, and work on your jump shot in his driveway.
More recently we’ve expanded our bubble slightly to include a few other close family friends. We took a brief road trip to San Diego with a couple other families, and later the same group went to Tahoe. It’s hard to say that anyone is living their ‘best life” during a global pandemic and economic depression, but let’s just say you’re not exactly slumming it.
I guess that’s probably it.
Wait, am I forgetting something?
Oh right, FOOTBALL!!!
Flag Football — Part 1: Stanford Stadium:
Because apparently your life isn’t awesome enough, your team got invited to play a quick scrimmage at halftime of a Stanford game. As an honorary pseudo kinda coach, I got to go too. And we both got sweet swag to boot. Woo hoo!
We waited in the tunnel as the players walked past to the locker room (awesome), then ran onto the field (awesomer) before setting up to play on the field in front of possibly hundreds of fans who didn’t get up to grab food or use the restroom (awesomest). There was only enough time to run six total plays , but how many kids can say they played football IN Stanford stadium? Well, most of your friends I guess. But how many others? Not many I assume.
Flag Football — Part 2: the season:
Fresh off your championship in 2019, you were primed for another great season. Sadly our team mascot was the absolute worst (the Ducks) and we got smoked in the scrimmage game by a new team (ironically, the Huskies). For the last game of the season we’d again be playing the Huskies, this time with a playoff birth on the line. Win and we’re in, lose and we’re out.
Wait, hold up. No details about the season itself?
Dean and Cody remained the quarterbacks, and throwing became a meaningful part of our offensive attack. You even made a couple touchdown throws via a halfback pass (it certainly helps when the entire defense crashes to stop the run). But as usual, you made most of your plays with your legs, juking and jiving and basically making a mockery of north-south football. Example:
But, also as usual, my favorite plays were on defense. Lots of flag pulls and several interceptions — a few for touchdowns. My absolute favorite is this one, where you read the quarterback’s eyes and break on the ball before he even throws it. The receiver never had a chance.
But back to our story. In the final week of the season you avenged your early loss to the Huskies to secure your spot in the playoffs. A first round playoff win put us in the championship against…the Huskies. The rubber match! Winner take all!
And then…Covid-19. Again. No championship game. No rubber match. No finality. The parents are devastated (which is, of course, ridiculous). You and your buddies? You’re just sad you didn’t get to play one more game. But don’t worry, there’ll be lots of games left to come. And your mom and dad will get over it. Eventually. Pretty sure.
OK, I think we’ve covered everything. Despite spending half your 9th year on earth in a once-in-a-century pandemic/depression/murder-hornet-infestation/fire-tornado/Trump-being-Trump, seems like you had a pretty great year. I can’t even imagine what’s coming next, but I can’t wait to find out. I love you son. Happy 9th birthday.
