The cheap sports

It was empty. At least we don't leave shot glasses and crack pipes lying around.

In about four years, we will sign Lyla up for sports. I hope she has a natural affinity for the cheap ones and rejects the pricey ones like rhythmic gymnastics and yacht racing.

I was in track when I was little. "Hey, see that big oval on the ground? Go run around it." That's the sport. "See that pit of sand? Run and jump into it." You're five years old. Why do you need judo lessons when there's sand to jump into?

I was also in soccer, which is exactly like track only very disorganized. "See that field? Go run around in it. You're the midfielder." There was a ball, but I don't remember ever getting to kick it. At halftime there were oranges. At the end of the game, Mountain Dew. Lyla would like that, and it wouldn't require us to buy golf clubs or a polo horse.

"Dad, I've outgrown my racing bike again."

"Oh really, honey? Here's a stick. Why don't you go hit some rocks with it?"