Week 7 Soccer Notes

1. Due to a scheduling quirk, my daughter's team of Age 6 Ladybugs found themselves matched up Saturday against something resembling the 2018 Brazilian Men's World Cup entry, and the results were predictable. They lost 241-2. Adding insult was that one of the 2 goals came immediately as our one-year-old was falling out of the giant wagon, so our light cheers for a relatively meaningless goal could easily have been construed as derisive, mock cheers for a baby falling out of a wagon and landing on his head.

Frustration was clearly mounting for the girl, who told me several times during the game, "They're pushing me!" and I did see some extended arms and elbows. But rather than channeling that anger into pushing back, it eroded into more of an "I give the s__t up with this," attitude. It's unfortunate, but we could be seeing the beginning of the end of soccer for her. Who knows, maybe next week they'll actually play other 6-year-olds (girls, even) and have a chance to do something.

2. During the hour between games, we walked around the track and witnessed parts of one softball game and two baseball games. We saw 33 pitches thrown via a variety of methods (kids, coaches, machines) before one was mercifully put into play, a short grounder to a player of indeterminate position, who bobbled, fielded and threw wildly to first base, which was uncovered anyway, despite there being 22 defenders on the field, including three first basemen. CAN NOT WAIT for our kids to start playing that.

3. The second game of the day featured our 3-year-old, who did not score a goal but did tally a nice assist ("nice" in 3-year-old soccer = "extraordinarily lucky") on a teammate's goal. Since he was mad that he didn't score the goal himself, we had to remind him that he helped a teammate score a goal, and that was just as important. That works on a three-year-old, who then reminded us throughout the remainder of the day that he helped his teammate score a goal. Next we'll ask him to make a nice assist to his parents as they clean his room.

4. For the seventh straight week, I am smacking myself on the back of the neck for not wearing sunscreen. When it's 49 degrees when you leave the house, the last thing you're thinking about is sunscreen. It's all i'm thinking about now.