One more old post about the Lakers, a younger Primo, and me the idiot:
It’s the middle of the third quarter and the Lakers 4 point lead has turned into a 9 point deficit in the last 3 minutes. Smush is bringing the ball up looking to the sideline to see if Coach Phil Jackson is going to call time out. This seems like a dumb move since I know he’s not going to call it, the other team knows he’s not going to call it, hell the cheerleaders preening on the sideline know he’s not going to call it. Phil doesn’t call time outs in that situation because he wants the guys on the floor to work it out themselves. He has been like that through all 9 championships, 4 books, and countless wins so he might be on to something.
As I’m yelling at Smush through my computer screen Primo is screaming in the other room. It is close to midnight and he has been having a rough go at it this evening. I have been in and out of his room most of the night and he calms down for a couple of minutes but then winds back up.
Kobe kicks the ball out to Odom for a jumper and 2 points and then the Lakers steal the ball and score again. They are working it out themselves just like Phil knew they would and I think I need a little more Zen in my child care. Primo needs to learn to work things out himself as well. I don’t need to call a time out right now and go soothe him, this is an opportunity for him to expand and learn how to soothe himself. So I watch the game and tell Beautiful “it’s OK, let him work it out” when she wakes up and starts to go get the boy.
After about 45 minutes of Primo failing to work it out himself Beautiful finally gets up, gives Primo his bottle and puts him back to sleep where he sleeps soundly through the night. In the morning She asked me why I let him cry so long and I told her about the Lakers, about Phil Jackson and his Zen coching style. I told her I was letting him work it out, not calling a time out, giving him the opportunity to see he had it in him all along. Beautiful rolled her eyes at me saying rather patronizingly “So your taking your parenting cues from a basketball coach now?” Then kissed me on my forhead and said “You’re an idiot honey.” As she headed off to bathroom I knew she was right. Then I thought: I wonder how John Wooden would have handled the situation.
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