What I think about when I watch soccer -- in this case, this week, starting today, World Cup action -- is my kids' early games, when they were 5 and 6 and 7....how cute they were, running around in circles, clumping up (parents yelling "don't clump up!"), running into each other, occasionally getting in a good kick (parents screaming "good kick Luc!"), my daughter playing goalie in an oversized shirt, making unreal efforts to prevent goals.
Sigh. Cold Saturday mornings with coffee in a thermos. The invention of portable camp chairs coming just in time for our turn to be soccer parents.
That time in Rochester when my son kicked that great shoot-out goal. How excited he was another time, in the back seat, chattering "I just LOOOOVE soccer!" (for a typically reserved child, a moment for a parent to remember).
Soccer was good for my kids.
For myself, I had no such experience with team play, or really any competitive play, no encouragement to focus on anything physically challenging. My generation was maybe the last where girls just did not have that cultural approval to get moving. Too bad for me! Now playing catch-up!!
Sigh. Cold Saturday mornings with coffee in a thermos. The invention of portable camp chairs coming just in time for our turn to be soccer parents.
That time in Rochester when my son kicked that great shoot-out goal. How excited he was another time, in the back seat, chattering "I just LOOOOVE soccer!" (for a typically reserved child, a moment for a parent to remember).
Soccer was good for my kids.
For myself, I had no such experience with team play, or really any competitive play, no encouragement to focus on anything physically challenging. My generation was maybe the last where girls just did not have that cultural approval to get moving. Too bad for me! Now playing catch-up!!
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