Sunday, September 13, 2009


So: if anyone had told me five years back I actually would be -- literally -- a "Soccer Mom", I'd have redefined my definition of a miracle dog since I'd have assumed we were discussing Achilles. Instead, I AM A SOCCER MOM! This weekend was the first game in the Napa Valley Soccer League; in the photo above, Michael is in the center of the image.

Unfortunately, to cut to the chase, we lost 2-1. Now, 2-1 might seem to be a close game. But that "1" that Michael's team got was because the other team mistakenly pushed in a ball into their own goal....Let me back up to explain:

So the hubby and I showed up with our boy in tow. We're all very very excited as this was the very first "Little League" type of game for our family. We showed up an hour ahead of the game, which gave us a chance to check out the other boys in Michael's team as well as the opposing team. And after five seconds of keen perusal, the hubby and I shared the same thought: "Uh oh."

The other team was comprised of much larger and taller boys, in better shape, more coordinated and actually running through a very disciplined pattern of practice. Michael and his teammates were sort of just clumsily whacking the ball about....have I mentioned that Michael is also the smallest boy in the team? The hubby lifted his jaw back offa the ground and groaned in a low voice, "Our team is gonna get whupped."

Then Salvation arrived! Or so we thought. That is, another team showed up. The hubby brightened up to whisper to me, "They must be the team that we're playing. Because their kids are exactly like ours: small and awkward."

Our hopes rose further when Susan, the soccer league coordinator, mused out loud about the bigger and clearly more-seasoned team, "Maybe they're the 'SELECT' team -- though I don't know what they're doing in our field..."

But after much hoo-ing and haa-ing and much rustling among the coaches of the paperwork of schedules, it was determined that the other team of "small and awkward"-looking angels got their instructions wrong and arrived at the wrong field. So to my and the hubby's consternation, they all rushed back to their cars and vans to go to their correct soccer field. Which meant, as my and the hubby's head turned slowly back to the field, our kids were INDEED going to play this bigger and more physically fit team! Now I know why Hollywood has made BILLIONS of bucks on variations of this story.

The boys in Michael's team weren't actually all that awkward -- many displayed fine skills under the pressure of a real game. But they were still outplayed. I won't do the play-by-play....except to note that the smallest kid on Michael's team allowed in one of the two scores... Here is Michael after the game, being somewhat consoled with a donut from two boxes that another Soccer Mom had the experience to bring (I'm learning) whilst guzzling down that sports fixture called Gatorade:

Then we went over to the local Big 5 Sporting Goods to buy Michael a better pair of soccer shoes because I remembered that he had complained that the sides to his pair were sort of thin and it hurt when he would kick at the ball (being a biased soccer mom, I reach for any sort of rationale to explain why my son would not be playing his David Beckham Best)...which is to say, the next team had better watch out next Saturday. Coz, Babies:

Moi Boy's Got a Brand New Pair of Soccer Shoes!

As for Poetry? Here's a haynaku:
Little League Cheer

trump losses
any ol' time!

Yes, Peeps. Y'all, too, can come over to The Chatelaine's for your, ahem, Sports Fix!

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