Boyfriends

     For better or worse, the thing about having five older and attractive sisters, is that there was no shortage of boyfriends and hopeful boyfriends around the house throughout their teenage and twenty-something years.  Some of them actually mustered up enough courage to make it inside the house, to inevitably face the evil eye of Dad and the rolling eyes of Mom--scrutiny that could make a clean cut, straight-A, all-American boy feel like a greaser from S.E. Hinton's The Outsiders.  Christine and Linda tended to be the jock-magnets, Diane and Joanne attracted a more diversified group of jocks, pretty boys, and older working "men".  Jackie tended to bring home (or keep away) the type who spent their extra money on cigarettes, concert t-shirts, and suping up their camaros.  I liked Ron, Jimmy, Steve, Al, and a few others.  Hell, I even liked Marlboro Man hot-rodder Lance for the most part.  But none of them came within the same stratospheric vicinity of "Best Of" compared to Neal.
     No young man ever forgets his first one.  And I was no different.  I had just turned twelve when that life altering moment of awareness and maturity came my way.  It was a Brine Superlight II.  White aluminum shaft, red head, and pearly white mesh.  My first lacrosse stick.  It was a gift given to me by Linda's lacrosse-playing boyfriend, Neal.  He may have simply liked me. Or maybe he was trying to score extra points with my sister. Maybe he was offering up to me a different and exciting alternative to my love for playing (boring) baseball.  Whatever the reason, Neal's gift introduced me to a sport that not only turned baseball into obsolescence for me, but became such a prominent part of my identity, that LACROSSE PLAYER should be listed on my driver's license next to ORGAN DONOR.  So much has the sport of lacrosse given to me, that for my entire adult life, I've repeatedly, hundreds of times, imparted upon young baseball players and young athletes this important lesson: That there are three major decisions that need to be made in your lifetime: One, what career you choose for yourself. Two, whom you choose to marry.  And three, whether or not you choose to play lacrosse instead of baseball.
     Playing competitive lacrosse every season since my first high school game 35 years ago,  I know that at least I got one of those major life decisions right.  And that's thanks to Neal--the best boyfriend of a sister a 12 year old boy could ever have.