Sometimes you need to compromise

I love basketball.

I went to the basketball hall of fame....6 times, (It helped that I was living in Springfield, MA for 6 months).

I remember when I was 15 years old. My little brother Chad and I, were tired of the swing set.

"Dad, I'm too old to swing on those flexible pieces of plastic connect to chains and whenever I go down the slide the little hornets nest gets disturbed and I run away screaming. Can't we get rid of the swing set and get a basketball court?"

(Okay-so maybe that is the worst run on sentence ever; and maybe it wasn't phrased quite the way I'm describing....except for the run away screaming part...but I was only 15 okay?....and the screaming part was mostly Chad...)

"Ryan, we can't throw out the swing set. Each post is cemented three feet into the sand pit with about four feet worth of cement on the post itself."

Now, my compromising skills weren't quite like they are now. So, they probably sounded as follows:

"But Dad!"
"No Ryan, we can't"
"But Dad!"
"No"
"Bu--"
"Ryan, this conversation is over."

Being my teenage self, and trying to find a way to show my dad that I do know everything. I came up with a plan.

"Hey Dad, what if Chad and I dug up the posts and chipped off the cement?"

"You really want to do that?"

".....yes.....and we can give the swing set to Mrs. Jensen's kids. They're little."

"Okay. If you do that, we'll get a basketball court."

I spent that entire summer sweating away, breaking my dad's pick-ax, and chizzling off that cement. But I got the court.

Sometimes compromising takes time.

Sometimes you have to step back, think a little different, and be willing to work.

...Even if it takes all summer.