I have been to my share of games. A usual basketball season with those dreaded four-game nights and eight or nine game days at the Northark tournaments has me seeing about 300 contests a year.
During those games, I have seen it all.
One thing that disturbs me is the attacks that are hurled at these 15 or 16 year old kids by adults. It is unbelievable.
The more I think about this, I don’t know what kept one mother from going into the stands and beating on a couple of parents from what was being yelled at her son.
What had this kid done to these people? Nothing. He just had the ability to shoot the basketball and his team was better than her son’s team.
This week the noise in my life changed from poor sportsmanship to something else.
My Middle Man, Atticus Hatcher — grandson No. 2, had his body attacked by a staph infection. This infection is trying to attack his blood and bones and it has made a very happy boy, very sick.
I guess today marks a week that the trooper has been in the hospital. There is no end in sight for this little guy. The family address should be moved to Arkansas Children’s Hospital.
Atticus Hatcher is a lucky guy in the fact that he has a very strong family support system. A very strong system. Despite only his parents living in the immediate Little Rock area, Atticus had more than a dozen visitors on Thursday alone.
While I was playing with big brother Abram Henry, I begin to notice that there were rooms with infant children in them. I also noticed that there was no one with them.
I know how scary the stay in the hospital is for Atticus Hatcher and he has a full support team. I can only imagine what it is like for a six-month old with no one with them.
The nurses do a good job, but they can not be there every second for those children. The cries of those young babies go unanswered.
That breaks my heart.
As the new athletic season is approaching, let’s remember that they are just kids. Yes, they may act ugly on the court and they may not be nice kids. Take a minute and look into the stands and realize that those are the parents of that kid. The poor kid is a product of that environment.
He is like those six-month olds. He is crying out for help. He may want someone to love him and show him love.
I don’t know how teachers do it. I have looked at my daughter’s intercity students and again my heart breaks.
Whitney Houston sang a song (Yes, I have a Whitney Houston references in my column. I am surprised as well.). “I believe the children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way. Show them all the beauty they possess inside…”
Let’s teach our kids. Let’s be examples for them. Let them see Christ living through us.