It’s a lazy day. I’m sitting at a park sitting inside my van just taking it all in. YaYa is within my sights. He is at his soccer practice. Its one day late for soccer and one day early for my rest day.
As I sit here, I watch a threesome as they run laps around the park. The park is small so they pass by frequently. I watch them as they warm up; they move slowly and steadily. Soon they are picking up the speed. They breathe hard and their faces turn red in color as they run past. From my van, it looks boring. They persist. They put one foot in front of the other and just keep on moving. I know tomorrow, on-lookers may see me and think the same thing. B-o-r-i-n-g. But it won’t be boring at all for me.
On the field, YaYa takes the ball and dribbles up the field. His feet know the drill. His feet are more familiar with the drill then those of his teammates, and more familiar than they were just a few weeks back. Kick-Run-Kick-Run…
He moves fast. His face is serious. He slows slightly as he approaches the goal…Kick & Miss.
YaYa moves back in line to wait for his next chance to shoot on the goal. I watch him as he waits. Beside him two of his teammates turn cartwheels. YaYa is talking now and doing a dance of sorts. His missed goal is long forgotten.
Back on the sidewalk, the threesome is done running. They are sweat soaked and happy. Their feet move slowly as they pass. I ask them how far they ran. “One hour,” they answer. “Well done,” I say as I try to remember back to when I tracked my runs by elapsed time only.
On the field, it’s scrimmage time. Half of the players put on the red “pennies.” These are like a mesh singlet. The coach orchestrates the show as the sun is beginning to make its decent. “Go” he encourages to whoever has the ball. “Good pass” “Well done” He is every parent’s hero. He is the Team in Training of soccer. “Go Team!”
Kick-run-kick-run-kick-run…”Go YaYa” he yells…Score!
“Well done” he says.
Well done indeed.
As the sun sets, the kids pile into the parked vans. They are sweat soaked and happy, as the hard-core soccer players continue to play on. They too are sweat soaked and happy.
Wes says
As a soccer mom of 14 years, you have just described one half of my life :-)