Finally, a place where it's OKAY to kick...and he WON'T

I am a NOTORIOUS hater of all things athletic, sporty, or team related. Now, nobody get offended - I say, more power to those who enjoy sports and are good at playing them. But I have NO athletic skill, and I would rather pick my toenails - AND THEN EAT THEM - than have to endure playing or watching a game of any kind...although I'll make ONE concession around November, because I DO love to watch a good football game or two in the fall. And unfortunately? I live in the heart of the midwest, where High School Sports are The Religion of the masses.

Other than a ten year run in gymnastics (which I was actually pretty good at), two years as a high school cheerleader (was maybe not so good - but riding the boys' basketball bus home iz funnnnn!), and an unfortunate encounter with ballet and tap classes as a child (there was the little problem of "I have no coordination"), I have only participated in one organized sport in my life.

The sport? Tee-Ball, the rite of passage for every six year old in America. In my glorious one-season run, I got a black eye while practicing with my mom in the front yard - "Watch the BALL, Stacey, WATCH THE BALL"...Uh, YEAH, I WAS watching - watching it come STRAIGHT FOR MY HEAD. And then, after that ugly incident, I received ANOTHER black eye while playing short stop during an actual game. My instinct when I see balls flying at me is not to catch them, but to duck. Obviously, I wasn't ducking fast enough. And so ended my Tee-Ball career.

The other thing, besides being BORING, that really gets my goat about school-age sporting events? THE PARENTS. It's amazing to think that there's anything political about seven year old kids playing baseball, but oddly enough, that's the way it works around here. I actually had a little boy in my kindergarten class one year who had been red-shirted - he had been passed on to first grade in one school district, but the parents moved to our district and INSISTED that he needed to repeat kindergarten. I hope he is somewhere out there having an illustrious Tee-Ball career. And you know? His grandma was a school board member, so nobody asked any questions - YOU DON'T GET ALL UP IN PEOPLE'S BASEBALL AROUND HERE.

So anyway, I knew the day was coming when my children would want to play one sport or another, and I was dreading it. Garrett, as you know, has begun with soccer, and Tee-Ball is coming up in May. I have no idea how parents of multiple children in sports / activities DO THIS. The logistics are just so confusing...

Practice is at 5:30 - dinner before, or dinner after?

Handwash the shinguard/sock thingy after each practice, or just before the games?

When my husband is working late, how do I get two preschoolers, one twenty-pound baby, two folding chairs, two water bottles, two soccer balls, a bottle, hat, toys, and a warm blanket for the baby, Laura's coat, my coat, and sunglasses all the way over to the field all by myself (bonus points if no one gets run over on the way across the street)?

How long can dirt be forgotten on soccer clothes before it actually CAN'T be removed?

And most importantly - can I get a REFUND for this whole get-up (Parks Department enrollment fee, two pairs of shorts, shirt and undershirt, two pairs of shinguards, soccer cleats, gray hoodie jacket, new soccer ball, group soccer photo, and breakfast at McDonald's every Saturday of April and May) if all my son does the whole season is dig holes on the field with said cleats?

His first game was Saturday, and I must say that everything truly does change when it's YOUR kid out there. I mean, I had an emotional INVESTMENT in this game - that's MY BAY-BEEEE OUT THERE AND ISN'T HE THE MOST AWESOME SOCCER PLAYER YOU EVER DID SEE? So anyway, to my surprise, I actually enjoyed the game. NOT BORING! My normally self-conscious self even cheered him on and gave some, er, helpful pointers. "Watch the BALL, Garrett - WATCH THE BALL!"

Charging up those batteries with a banana before the nine A.M. game:

Garrett spent a fairly good portion of the game smiling and waving to us, at least when he wasn't standing mid-field YAWNING.

While most of the kids were practically wrestling over posession of the ball and a chance to actually make contact with it, Garrett tried his best to stay OUT of the action. He did run in the direction of the group, but consistently stayed about ten steps behind, as you'll see below. Near the middle of the game, he started doing this really exaggerated slow-motion run, almost a LEAP, if you will. Needless to say, we were THOROUGHLY entertained.


So let's do the math - if 10 percent of the game was spent waving, another 10 percent yawning, and 50 percent was devoted to LARGE...SLOW....LEAPS...DOWN...THE...FIELD, that means that the remaining 30 percent of Garrett's first soccer game was spent digging in the field with his new cleats (which, by the way, he has complained for the last two weeks of practices that his shoes felt too tight, and I got all irritated with him because he was WITH me to get fitted and he said they fit fine at the store, blah, blah, blah - well, Daddy found a wad of that 'brand new shoe tissue paper' still stuck in the end of one shoe right before we left for the game...see, I toooold you I was bad at all things ATHLETIC).


And finally, don't five year olds just rock? They're lining up to congratulate (greet? high five?) the other team at the end of the game, and they all totally stuck out the wrong hand. The red team is coming down to the left of our team, but they're all sticking out their right hands. Hee!