Confirmed Craziness

As I was diving into the daunting task of organizing Kanab Boys Youth Basketball, I asked my mom, "Am I crazy?" Her response was priceless. "Ya but now you're just manufacturing reasons to be crazy." Yup, thanks mom! I've manufactured a good one this time!

There are 2 main reasons I do this to myself every year.
The first being that I really enjoy basketball. I've grown up in a gym and love the sounds and smells. There's nothing quite as exciting as a great shot in the last minutes of a game. A good man on man defense is fun. Can I play the game? Definitely not! I'm terrible, really, terrible. Although I do have great technique. Can I coach the game? Yup. Been there. Done that. Loved it.
The second reason is that I have a lot of my Dad in me. No matter how busy he was, he wouldn't want a kid to miss out on an opportunity. I want the 130 boys that signed up this year to have a great time and learn to love the game. The boys deserve an opportunity to succeed.

This is where I start manufacturing my craziness. I'm a little (ahem, a lot) OCD about organization. I have a file box that is ONLY for basketball. In my box are few manila folders containing a mirage of things. All registration papers are done by alphabetical order in each grade. Practice schedules, volunteers, team rosters, insurance, Jazz contacts are included in these manila folders. Ok, maybe I have more than just a few folders. All of the information that I have must be shared in a clearly organized manner. This is just the paperwork part of it.
Now we move into the gym. The coaches that have so gracefully volunteered must feel at ease as things run smoothly. Every night I close up the gym, the floor must be swept. Once a week the bleachers are pushed in and swept. I know how much it costs to refinish a gym floor so we keep it as nice as possible. Besides, it was fun to sweep the gym floor as a little girl. My dad taught me that's what you do before leaving the gym, so that's what I do.

Tonight I had a few people thank me for stepping up to the plate and running the league again. Honestly, I kinda like it. It's my way to give back to the community and kids. I'm grateful I have a reason to be crazy. Thru basketball I feel very connected to my dad. It's a game he loved so dearly and I can be a part of him.

If you see me around town and I'm disheveled, haven't showered in days, and babble at you, please remember that I'm a little basketball crazy. Give me a week or 2 and I'll come around.

Daddy's Girl

I'll be 2 years tomorrow that my daddy passed away. Some days I can't believe it's been that long and some days it seems like yesterday.

My dad was my Superman. He is/was my hero. As the kids and I were talking the other night, they were expressing what they would like to achieve as adults. When they asked I responded, "I want to try to be half the person my daddy was." My dad was kind, gentle, patient, genuinely interested in us, a fighter, gave everyone the benefit of the doubt, happy, stubborn, had reasonable limits, generous and most importantly, loving.

I remember so many nights that we'd shoot the bull and watch Sports Center after I returned from a date or activity. He would be in the stands watching dance performances, diving meets or softball games. There would be cards placed on my pillow congratulating me on a job well done if he had to miss something due to other obligations. Or the flowers left on the counter top with a note since he'd have an out-of-town basketball game on my birthday. He cared and made sure we knew it. Don't get me wrong, we had our moments. We stood toe to toe in a disagreement neither wanting to back down. We were more alike than not and our stubborn sides would clash every blue moon. Then again, I was a teenager. Even though we didn't see eye to eye, I still had to obey the rule: Give Daddy a Kiss on the Cheek Nightly. Some kisses were a little icy but I would give almost anything to give him more nightly kisses.

I miss my daddy's smell, his hugs that make you feel like everything is ok and his voice. I'm sad that my boys won't have him in the stands at their sports games cheering them on. I wish he was in the seats at my daughters dance performances. My dad knew all the dance terminology and how to do most of the moves. See, I told you he was interested! I would love to cuddle up next to him and talk basketball/baseball/football/tennis/track...you get the idea. I wish he could have been coaching as SUU got an invitation to the Big Sky Conference. Although we all know he was involved in that from the other side.

I aspire to emulate my dad in my life. To bring out all of his great qualities he passed onto me. I know he was proud of me when he passed away and I'll continue to make him proud. I'll continue his legacy and teach my children of the great man he was. I will always hold my head high as one of the "Hodson Girls." There is a man in town that knew my dad and calls me STEVE since he doesn't know my name. The man has appologized for not remembering my name but I told him it's the greatest honor to be associated and remembered as my dad. I'm honored to be Steve to this man.

As I cry and hurt during this hard time of year I'm grateful for our gospel. I'm grateful for eternal life and the opportunity I have to be with my dad again. I know he visits me and watches over us. I know he's surrounded by family and friends. He probably golfs every thursday and is in a softball league with his buddies that have also passed on.

I miss my dad.

Steven Lloyd Hodson Dec 11, 1954- Nov 3, 2008