You
’ve missed an important game, and as a parent, you’re eager to
find out how your son did in his team’s march toward the playoffs.
You bolt through the door with anticipation of getting some
electrifying highlights and ask your son, “So, how did it go?” All
you got was “good.”
You’ve missed an important game, and as a parent, you’re eager to find out how your son did in his team’s march toward the playoffs. You bolt through the door with anticipation of getting some electrifying highlights and ask your son, “So, how did it go?” All you got was “good.”
You haven’t seen your nephew in over a year, so at the family summer get together you ask him, “How did the season go?” Unknowingly, to you, his team won the state championship, got a parade through downtown, received a call from the President of the United States and each player was given a years supply of Fruit Loops. All you got was “good.”
School is treated the same way. Asking how things went that day comes the same reply, “good.” They could have eaten a celery stick for lunch because they forgot theirs, flunked a math test, lost their shoes in P.E. and watched every paper in their backpack float away after they dropped it, but overall the day was “good.”
Ever wonder what “good” translates to? Are you left pondering how everything played out in hopes that your son didn’t embarrass you or make you look like an inept parent? Are you afraid to ask another parent the outcome for fear of a horror story? Your hoping you can show your face at another game without wearing dark sunglasses and a baseball cap!
Over the years I’ve been able to decipher and translate what “good” means. Now, I haven’t figured out everything in baseball (no one ever does), but I know what kids are thinking. And I know they don’t necessarily want to reveal everything to their parents.
When “good” is the answer to your question of “how did the game go?” Here’s the translation: Your son threw the ball into the stands for an error, struck out on a ball that hit the backstop, spilled Gatorade on his white pants, was extremely hungry because all he had for lunch was a celery stick and he stepped on dog poop after the game which he transferred to your car. Or, he actually made an ESPN web gem, got a couple of nice hits and conducted himself in a manner that would make you a proud parent.
To your question, “How did the team do?” comes this translation: The other team scored 10 runs before an out was recorded, they ran out of pitchers by the second inning because of the pitch count limit, the outfielders were chasing so many balls they should have been wearing track shoes and the post game snack was horrible, prune fruit rollups with Tang. Or, the team played good defense, the pitchers threw strikes and got outs and we put together a terrific last inning to win the game.
You’ll never know what “good” means until you follow it up with something else. Since you’re a wise parent way beyond your years with a degree in childology, you’ll probably say, “So define good for me.” Know what your youngster will reply with?” “Uh, well, Dad, good means good.”
