Ah February, that special time of year when young and old get a twinkle in their eyes and thoughts turn to that of…SOCCER! (or football for the non-North Americans)
I just can’t believe my youngest has been playing now for 12 years. This seems amazing because I can’t believe she is old enough to have done anything for that long! Anyway, lately we have noted (with pride) that her team has gotten quite good and game day is an eagerly anticipated activity.
I would share more but I am incredibly superstitious and we have yet to start the play-offs so I won’t say another word about how they went from being barely tall enough to kick the ball to killing the plays, out-foot-handling the opposition and dishing a shocking amount of brute force when needed. Or that they used to be at the bottom of the standings… for years.
Maybe I am doubly proud because she has excelled at her chosen activity despite coming from a family with a mostly lukewarm affinity for sports in general. Now, I will give credit where credit is due, my kids all enjoy getting out there and have participated on various teams over their young lives but unfortunately these days, there doesn’t seem to be an accepted recreational stream of any group sport where you can just play for fun until you get to the ‘beer league’ age. So if you aren’t outstanding in your chosen pastime, you eventually drop it for something else or worse, nothing else. As a result, the older two tend toward individual pursuits.
As for myself, I grew up in a generation that encouraged public humiliation of children as a character building enterprise so being picked last during every gym class in school kind of put me off team games at a very young age. It’s true I am not aggressive, have no coordination and don’t like getting hurt so I completely understand the hesitation to add me to the roster BUT, I could have done without the mocking…lol. Whatever, I went to my high school reunion, I know what those bullies look like now…ooh, snap! But I digress.
At the time I didn’t really understand what I missed out on (aside from a dodgeball to the head). Now as I watch my daughter call for the pass or take a hit to draw a foul, listen to the banter after a game, hear their laughter, feel the joy, I realize they are more than just a gang of girls. They are an invincible gang of girls. They have figured out how to work as one toward a common goal. And there you have it, life lesson number 145 – Rely on your crew. (with possible related sub-lessons; a. the ability to spray water from your mouth far enough to hit your friend’s shoes and b. record the latest Tik Tok dance together after practice in under 5 minutes.)
And so, our Valentine Day weekend will be sat out on a cold field (dry if we are lucky) screaming motivational words encouraging sanctioned aggression. Actually no, I am kidding, you can’t do that anymore. Kinda falls under the umbrella of ‘harmful psychological trauma’ and ‘not good for self-esteem’ and all that jazz. Whatever, I turned out fine… (no comment)
Life’s tough, wear shin pads.
Go Ravens!!