Tradition: the handing down of information, beliefs, and customs by word of mouth or by example from one generation to another without written instruction.
Tradition: a long-established or inherited way of thinking or acting.
Tradition: connects us to our past, gives us a clear sense of who we are, and builds strong bonds in our families and communities.
Tradition: camping at Jellystone over the fourth of July!
Spring is the season that reminds me I’m still becoming.
It was a life well lived.
I’m gonna miss Great Uncle Norman. He was the last living link to my Papa Florence. But he was more than that, too.
Mom says Uncle Norman was our family historian—the keeper of our story. He helped us understand where we came from, sharing the history of both Great Grandma Helen’s family and the Florence family. He reminded us often that family history mattered, that family connections mattered, and that it was our responsibility to keep those stories alive. He didn’t just talk about family. He lived it. He was always bringing people together, reaching out, organizing gatherings, and making sure relationships stayed strong. He was the unofficial Mayor for the Florence side of my family, and these were the life lessons he taught us:
Safe travels, Uncle Norman.
And long live the Florences.
Guess who just finished his fifth year at the Jordan Kappen Basketball Camp and walked out with a Dr. Dish like it was a party favor?
This guy.
Honestly, I’m starting to think they should rename the camp after me! I mean, I’m not saying I’m the GOAT again… actually, no, I am saying it. Because it happened again! WOOHOOO!!! Despite my mom’s best efforts to keep me humble, this camp continues to sabotage her plans. Every year I show up, I feel like I’m on top of the world!
I know, I know… “winning is cool, but character is cooler.” I get it. I really do. But also…
I WON A FREAKING DR. DISH THIS YEAR.
A WHOLE SHOOTING MACHINE.
VALUED AT $500.
That’s basically the basketball equivalent of hitting the jackpot. Only it wasn’t luck. It was a lot of pre-camp grinding, sore muscles, blood, sweat, and even tears. Because, yes, it’s okay for boys to cry.
So yeah, I’m going to enjoy this one. Because getting to the top is only half the battle. Staying there? That’s the real challenge.
So, let me brag a little today. Tomorrow, I’ll get back to the hard work and humility so I can keep growing as a player and a person.
Because growth is the real prize. And I look forward to growing very familiar with that new piece of hardware at the top of my driveway. It’s just what the Doctor ordered!
Queue the exit music.
We successfully completed 6th and 3rd grade. Now we take on summer.
Please keep our parents in your thoughts… especially our mom, who works from home and is about to transform into a full-time Uber driver with zero tips.
It’s not third grade if you don’t end the year in the Rivoli Movie Theatre and on the La Crosse Queen. Genesee’s class enjoyed perfect weather, just like I did three years ago. They also had the coolest chaperone in town: My mother. (She told me to type that.)
After their class adventures, Genesee and mom walked around downtown and ended at the Pearl to enjoy some ice cream. Oh, to be in third grade again…
This spring, I decided to become a business owner. We don’t really know what we’re doing, but we’re motivated, cute, and willing to cut your lawn instead of playing on our electronics.
Don’t need your grass cut? We can also clean windows, water flowers, pick up dog poop, and other things that we never do at our own homes.
Are we insured? Heck no! Are our prices a little random? Absolutely. But don’t ask too many questions. Just make your appointment today… before we realize that being part of the working class isn’t actually that fun.
It was the year of the Birkenstocks, a peach-fuzz mustache, bleached hair, a deeper voice, and my uninvited friend “BO.”
It was the year I traveled by airplane without my parents, the year I drove in the driveway regularly, and the year I almost reached my mom’s height.
It was the year of Nike Dri-FIT compression shirts, hoodies in every color, and untamed curls.
It was the year I turned twelve.
“Hello. My name is Jaeger Goodenough and I’m addicted to skiing.”
They say the first step is admitting you have a problem. But is it really a problem? I mean, sure, my parents’ bank account might be a little concerned about my newfound hobby, but my soul and spirit? Thriving. Absolutely thriving.
It’s my dad’s fault. He had this spontaneous idea to head to Lutsen Ski Resort during Christmas break in 2024, which turned out to be the gateway drug. Now, I’m hooked! So hooked, in fact, that when my childhood friend Colin invited me to ski in Colorado, I said, “Heck yeah!” before remembering that I’m the kid who usually hates sleepovers anywhere but my own house.
So there I was, in the airport, without my family. And before I could panic—plot twist—we got upgraded to first class seats! Justin and Summer said it was an early birthday present for me and Colin since we’re both April birthday babies. And wowzers: the view (and snacks) from the front of the plane was amazing! But honestly, this is going to make every future birthday feel a little disappointing unless someone steps it up with, like, a private jet.
But the main event: skiing in Colorado.
Let me just say: these were not Midwest hills. These were actual, real-life mountains. The kind where you look down and briefly wonder if you’ve made a huge mistake. But once I got going? Incredible. I felt fast. I felt skilled. I felt like I should probably be sponsored (I am not sponsored).
There was one slight issue: the weather decided to act like it was summer for absolutely no reason. A warm snap almost ruined everything, and some runs were closed, which was tragic. But we still got out there and skied what we could, and it was easily the best skiing I’ve ever done.
When we weren’t on the mountain, we stayed busy with hot tubbing, swimming, luggage cart rides, escape rooms (which we escaped with time to spare), go-karts, bumper karts, mini golf, and Topgolf. At one point, we went to a steakhouse, and I ordered a $58 filet mignon. I repeat: fifty-eight dollars. For a steak. I felt like I should be wearing a suit and talking about stocks. Was it worth it? Yes. Did I feel slightly too powerful? Also yes. Would my mom ever let me order that kind of meal? Heck no.
Another major life update: I am now a magnet collector. I got a couple magnets on this trip, and I’ve decided this is my thing. Everywhere I go, I’m getting one. Future me is going to have a fridge that tells my entire life story, which is pretty cool.
The only downside to this trip was missing Easter with my family. Luckily, the Easter Bunny still left me a basket full of goodies to enjoy when I got home.
So, to summarize: first solo flight without my parents, first time in first class, first time skiing real mountains, first (and maybe last) $58 steak, and the beginning of my magnet collection.
They say admitting you have a problem is the first step. Maybe they’re right. But if the “problem” is skiing… I’m not looking for a cure.
Let the receipts show that I spent approximately 97% of my life in the gym between November 2025-March 2026 because that’s how basketball greatness is made.
Of course, there’s a cost to being great: Since our record was so strong last year, we got placed in the major leagues this year and faced tougher competition. But our Green Team Dream Team still managed to pull off a 20-8 record (and yes, some of those wins were against 7th grade teams… no big deal).
But let’s go back to the beginning….
Our season tipped off with an invitation to the Top 32 League Championship Tournament, where we took 7th place. Not bad—but also not where we planned to stay. So we got to work.
By the end of the season, our goal was simple: level up at the Wisconsin State Invitational Championship Tournament.
Mission accomplished: we brought home 4th place.
Needless to say, with a team as competitive as ours, anything less than 1st place didn’t exactly bring smiles to our red, sweaty faces. So now we’ve got unfinished business heading into next year. (We’re looking at you, Neillsville, Fall Creek, and Crivitz.)
Still, even though we fell short of gold, our bleached hair was a bright reminder that basketball is about more than wins… it’s about the friends we made, the memories we created, and how team unity and bonding sometimes means looking slightly ridiculous together. (But ridiculous or not, we did receive many glowing reviews from our fans!)
And beyond the hype around our blonde era, another highlight for me, personally, was getting selected to the State All-Tournament Team (for the second year in a row). Only 8 players in the small division got that honor this year, which basically means I earned bragging rights and a permanent spot in the Great Northwest Basketball League history books.
I’m not much of a bragger, however, so I simply shrugged my shoulders and let one side of my mouth curl into what might have been a smile. Because you know… “it’s good to be humble” (said my mom, as I watched her do a full-on happy dance with my dog, after suffocating me with hugs and kisses).
But basketball seasons aren’t made of just one moment, so here are some other honorable mentions from this season, in bullet points and pictures:
And then I blinked, and just like that, (after 5+ not-long-enough months), my love affair with basketball ended. Well, the season ended; my burning desire to keep playing did not. But the soccer fields were calling my name, and so I made an appearance at the obligatory year-end pizza party, hung up my Nikes, and exchanged my #40 Mustangs jersey for my #4 Rush uniform.
It’s never easy to say goodbye to something you love. Luckily, I live with the coach, so the life lessons will continue at the dinner table—but I already know I’m going to miss him on the basketball bench one day. And when my dad got choked up during his final speech of the season, I realized he’s going to miss it too. I’m not sure if anyone else saw the tear in his eyes or the lump in his throat, but I hope they did because it showed us a healthier and more expansive script for masculinity: one that makes space for emotion, for care, for being human.
We’ve got two more years together in the GNBL, and then Dad will pass the whistle and sticky mat to the high school coaches. But until then, we’re going to make the most of every minute. Because I know this much is true: while it’s been a good run so far, the best is yet to come.
He moves like Jaeger 