Goodwill and Ernest

Our teeny little school played host on the weekend to the annual Goodwill Games – among the reasons I have been a little quiet this week on the blogging front.  Preparations for this event for all parents is kinda full-on – lots of baking, working bees and (on the day) lots of standing up, serving hungry little competitors (and fueling up their fan clubs) and joining the onlookers to cheer on one’s offspring.

The day started off very foggy.  Twas pea-soupish as I arrived just after 7am to make sandwiches, and had just started to lift as action got underway at 8.30am.

The heavy mist lent a slightly surreal edge to the March Past – where each small school lines up their students and they march proudly around the school oval while shouting their warcries. (Look closely as the shot above to see my daughter shouting her little head off.)

The March Past is effectively the first event of a day choc-full of sporting events.  Local dignitaries judge the best marching/school spirit efforts…

As rugged-up parents, grandparents, neighbours and friends look on, each school (including students from the School of Distance Education – aka homeschooled kids) marches behind their banner.  It’s pretty cute as the little ones struggle to stay in line, shout out varying versions of their warcry and generally keep checking to make sure Mum and Dad are paying sufficient attention.

Of course as they hit the home straight, and the ‘finish line’ came into sight, they step up their enthusiasm and school spirit fairly bursts from their lungs…

I think our Dash may have put the WAR into warcry, don’t you?

Now I have admitted once before that I failed to provide ANY kind of athletic DNA for my offspring.  Sprinters they are NOT.  Dash actually pulled out his old ribbons the night before the Games, gazed at them and lamented : I have to Mummy, I know I won’t win any tomorrow.

Yup.  I had a little sigh about that one myself.  Good sportsmanship – being gracious in victory and defeat – is a big thing for me.  Possibly because I know that (like me) Dash and Violet will be in the latter situation more than the former.  Of course I want them to do their best and will celebrate with them if they win in whatever event or activity inspires them.  But (as Mr Incredible and I explained to them both the night before the Games) it’s HOW they win or not that matters most.

Of course it is hard when everyone you know is streaking along the track like little bullets…

And being welcomed as winners into the celebratory arms of loved ones…

(How cute is this pair – big sister welcoming little sis as she wins her beer-carton-hurdles event!)

While Violet has a healthy sense of competitiveness…

… she is generally happy participating and doing okay. 

She knows that her time to shine will come (perhaps on a horse?) and she does love being in a team.

Dash is a little more, well, intense.  He takes each loss to heart.  And there have been some quiet tears in previous years as he brought up the rear of the field.  So there were a few little pep talks in the lead-up to his bigger races this year.  And while he didn’t get amongst the ribbons, he kept trying right to the finish line.

He put in every ounce of energy he could muster into his races and I was SO PROUD.

Then he told me that he had started shaking the winners’ hands after the races and it helped him feel better, and I darned near busted.

And as the final awards were handed out, you could have knocked us over with a feather when Dash’s name was called out for an Encouragement Award (for effort). 

His cousin got the girl’s version of the same award.  I was double proud!

 And I thought about the little man who got out those ribbons the previous night, and wondered what on earth was going through his busy little mind as he contemplated his award.

I sometimes think we should have christened him Ernest.

🙂