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| 3D team left to right: Jaime, Claire, Nicki, Elisa, Lizzy Abby, Lauren, Kristin, Colleen |
Hotel lobby, Lynnwood Washington.
Basketball parents lingered as we waited for the arrival of the U 14 Girls 3D Elite Basketball Team. We had been instructed to meet at 6pm ready to deploy for dinner and all parents were present and accounted for. Somewhere upstairs the girls had squeezed into one room enjoying some free time together before dinner. The thin walls of our aging Best Western were challenged to contain the sounds of squealing, shouting, and giggling 12 year old girls that should have been at least a little tired after two games of basketball against stiff American competition that afternoon. But a road trip brings out the pure monkey in everyone and so far the girls showed no signs of slowing down.
The group was hungry. Transporting and feeding a large group of basketball players, coaches, and parents requires organization and precision execution. Nothing less than a logistical success rivaling that of D-Day will do. Thomas had everything under control. Reservations were made at a place I had never heard of but at this early stage of the trip I had learned that the experience of parents and players that had come before us should not be questioned.
Once the girls made their way downstairs we loaded them up into pre-assigned vehicles and embarked for an apparently unrivaled establishment of culinary bliss. Somewhere so special you had to travel all the way to the United States to experience it. Seasoned veteran parents compared notes on what they would order. They seemed to be working themselves up into a religious fervor about this place, becoming increasingly incoherent as they tried to describe their last meal there. I'm absolutely positive I saw one dad barely save himself from salivating onto the front of his t-shirt with a last second head bob. Thomas beamed at us rookie parents. Our first in many firsts to come. That all knowing smile of his that had already become annoying. Thomas said the team deserved a special dinner after a successful start to the season.
We were off to PF Changs.
An American franchise restaurant of Asian fusion food, PF Changs was an anomaly among US based restaurant chains in that if the food was actually no healthier than Swiss Chalet it certainly looked like it could be. The place smelled simply scrumptious - a scent that mixed hoisin sauce, spicy pork ribs, and the rest of Thai cuisine in general. The square footage was impressive, the footprint of the place must have compared to that of a small IKEA. It had a funky modern decor that included a giant horse sculpture at the door, lots of other statues inside, and an open concept throughout. But also, deliberately I suppose, it was very dark despite the occasional hanging halogen spotlight. Baby boomers with faltering eyesight were using their smartphones to illuminate the menu and fighting over reading glasses. The place teamed with staff, everyone moving with precision in all directions many carrying trays that included dishes of steamed vegetables, tofu stir fry, and yummy looking beef slices topped with green onions. The veteran parents were in grave danger of losing control of several important faculties as they vibrated with anticipation. As I watched them I started to work out the cost benefit analysis of buying the first Canadian PF Changs franchise location.
The place was absolutely jammed, but after a short wait we were at our tables given the advance planning Thomas had done. Thomas and team at one table, parents at the other. During the trip to the restaurant the players had moved progressively from hungry, to famished, to fighting off cannibalistic tendencies. So when the sever came they all stood with menus in hand and started barking desperate orders for food, pointing and gesticulating wildly they looked like wistful brokers buying options on the Chicago Mercantile exchange. Soon bread was brought to calm the situation.
The meal was fantastic. While the parents leaned back on their chairs and tried to quell the urge to remove their belts and any other restrictive garments, the cheque arrived at the girls' table.
I realized this would be the first time several of the girls had been presented with that great unsolved mystery that dates back to the days of prehistoric man and continues at least until the completion of your university degree. Splitting the bill.
Players had been asked to bring funds for the weekend and budget accordingly. Thomas had asked that parents who had made the trip not to interfere with cash negotiations that often come up on these road trips. One of the skills learned by players will be how to budget and contribute fairly to team meals, fuel costs, etc. Thus whatever a player was staked with was her bankroll. An amount to be safely guarded or the next day she might starve.
The bill was taken by one of the players and she began to unroll it. Ultimately it came to a length of about half a roll of toilet paper. Laughter subsided and a tense session of negotiations began. Caroline and I and the other parents all knew this was going to take awhile, so we all calmly handed over our credit cards to settle our bills, ordered a beer, and sat back to watch.
The girls each examined the bill in turn, some grabbed their blackberries to do some calculations, then they looked at their cash and reluctantly parted with a small portion of it before passing the bill along. Eleven of these steps was necessary before Thomas took the billfold and added it all up.
At first count, the team was $80 short.
Previously best friends for life the team erupted into lethal accusations, "she had dessert and I didn't! I barely ate anything compared to her! She ordered that not me!". I think I even heard a swear word.
I reflected on the day while the girls sorted things out. Their first two games in the US had resulted in a cumulative score of 139-59. Thomas had explained to me earlier the silver lining of this, but it still seemed to me to be a long road ahead.
Thomas had finally seen enough. He stood at his spot and asked the girls to pipe down, then he moved around the table to each player, removed a bit of cash from her wallet and placed the billfold at the centre of the table. "Done. Okay girls, next time let's see if we can work a little better together shall we? We are a team after all." Then he continued speaking to them, but I couldn't hear. The girls were paying very close attention to him, more often than normal it seemed. Some started smiling. Crisis averted.
I waved Thomas over, "What did you say to them?"
He replied, "I told them I was proud of them. Tonight is a celebration. They did what I asked them to do today and they never gave up no matter what the score was. I told them that's what we are looking for right now. I've had teams give up in games like we had today. Not them. It's a good group, they are going to be a good team."
Then he added, "Plus just look at them, can you think of anything else worth celebrating?"
The girls were engaged in simultaneous conversation with each other, I don't think it would be possible for anyone to hear a word anyone else was saying. But somehow they all knew when to all laugh at once, a collective laugh so loud and infectious it would cause diners from several nearby tables to have to stop their conversations and smile. Abby sat between Lizzy and Jaime, two players a week ago I couldn't have imagined her to be on the same team with. She just seemed to belong there. Despite the rigors of today's two games I knew tomorrow the muscles that would hurt the most would be the ones responsible for holding the grin on her face constantly for these last two hours.
Who knew that finding happiness was as simple as organizing a team dinner at PF Changs?
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