I was out for a walk with the girls this morning. We went to go play in the gym for a while. It is really nice to have a big empty space to let them run around and climb to their hearts' content. On the way, we passed the rink. All weekend, there has been a hockey tournament for girls' travel teams. My little ones have liked to peek in on the skating and hopefully get a chance of seeing the Zamboni in action.
Today I was brought back to post-game conversations with my father. Regardless the sport, my father was an expert. He would enthusiastically show my sister how to follow through on her backhand while standing in our livingroom. One brother was shown how to properly apply pressure on the outside edge of his skis while carving up his bedroom floor. Another brother was shown the proper approach angle while high jumping an imaginary bar on our patio. My lessons usually involved posting up our high backed dining room chairs. My dad had an answer for everything, and after a great number of athletic outings, my siblings and I were put through his lessons.
Today while by the rink, I was transfixed by this very earnest mother recording her daughter's goaltending efforts.
It is hard for me to describe what captivated me by this scene. I watched this for at least fifteen minutes. At first, the mother was holding the iPad while recording from the stands. If you are a parent and attending a child's performance, do not do this. The mother then moved of to the side in what I thought was an act of courtesy. In fact, she was just moving closer to her daughter and looking for a place to prop up her iPad so she would not have to hold it any longer. As you can see from the image above, she rather precariously perched the iPad on the supports of the glass, held in place by the ropes that tie down the netting. I may have audibly prayed for a player to crash into the boards and put an end to this whole exercise. My daughters looked at me inquisitively.
A closer look at the image may reveal what really irked me.
If you are unfamiliar with Vertical Video Syndrome, then stop reading and watch this:
or this:
So if Vertical Video Syndrome is not enough of a concern, the mother did not even bother to level the camera. Look again at the horizon line created by the opposite boards in comparison to the iPad.
Imagine trying to watch that video! No wonder there are no offensive players to be seen, they have had to skate uphill the entire period.
Several, and I mean several, minutes later, the mother was struck by the need to correct her camera work.
Hooray, no more V.V.S. and it could actually be close to level. You will note, however, that there are still no other players in the picture aside from the much videoed goalie. That is because the white team was crushing their opponents. In the whole time I was there, the only time I saw the puck within twenty feet of this goal keeper was when the opponents finally got possession and dumped the puck to do a shift change. The rest of the time, the white team was controlling the puck and peppering the other goalie (and goal).
So why have I written this snarky post about a very well-intentioned mother trying to capture her daughter having fun and eventually share those moments, perhaps, with some family members unable to attend.
Here are my reasons, increasing in importance:
4 - Vertical Video Syndrome must be stopped.
3 - I hate watching parents use their iPads to record their children's performances and/or games.
2 - I miss my dad.
1 - I thank God that my father did not have a video recorder. His post-game lessons would have been completely intolerable if he had any actual evidence to support his points.
