kids and sports

My name is Debbie, and I'm a soccer addict.

And I'm about to go cold turkey.

My 11 year old son, let's call him Austin because that is his name, plays on a U-12 AYSO team. The spring tournament started last Friday night. Austin got sick at school - nothing contagious, just his allergies making him miserable. We got him doctored up and he was fit to play Friday night. Normally, I don't allow a child of mine who has been sick enough to leave school to participate in any activities on that day. But we have an ozone layer defense - lots and lots of holes in it, and Austin is something of a dynamo on the soccer field. (apologies to non-US fans. I can't use the word 'pitch' outside the baseball context). In fact, just so you don't think I'm bragging (well, I am - but is it bragging if it's truth? ;>) or that I'm biased in my son's favor (I'm not - he's the AntiChrist most of the time), let me point out that his coach told me that he thought Austin was his best player. That's stretching it. We've got some offense, but they have some communication problems to put it mildly. One ballhog and two class clowns, and more dives taken in the penalty area than at the last two Summer Olympics. Anyway, it seemed important that Austin play. And he felt better. I didn't make him. Austin played well and played hard and so did everybody else; we won 2-1.

Saturday. The semi-finals. It's threatening thunderstorms, humid and no shade in sight. We beat this team before and our little guys are expecting to win today. One of our strikers is out, so we make some adjustments, but apparently not the right ones. The other team scores. Twice. We can't get within shouting distance of the goal. Our ballhog striker attempts to outwit their keeper by running straight at him. The goalkeeper is twice this kid's size and not clumsy. Ballhog's mama screamed herself hoarse at the previous game, so thankfully cannot scream HELP HIM!! to his teammates - he won't accept help, pure and simple. Anyway, we lose. Austin is upset, but drowns his sorrows in Gatorade and granola bars. He will live to fight another day. He did get teary telling his sister about it, but acheived that great grammar school triumph: he did not cry in front of his teammates.

Austin has always reminded me of a puppy. He can be a frolicking kind of kid, particularly when balls are involved. And he's good at it - basketball, football, soccer, baseball. If there's a ball involved, he can play it. It's one of my greatest and simplest pleasures - to watch him playing hard, absolutely absorbed in what he's doing and this big puppy smile that lights up his whole face. I suppose it sounds 1) boastful and 2) pretentious, but it's like seeing somebody do what they were made to do.

Anyway, BIG UPS!! to Coach Lee who takes the AYSO credo to heart: everybody plays.

How will I make it through the offseason?