Goal Celebrations Have Come A Long Way

This season, my daughter, Avery, really hit her stride as a soccer player.

That’s the word on the street, anyway.   

You see, until this past Saturday, I had no first-hand knowledge of her progress because every time I showed up at practice, she would be distracted. And by “distracted” I mean “a total pill.” She’d cling to my leg and refuse to go on the field even though she loves playing and seeing her friends. Of course it was killing me to miss seeing her in action, so after staying away for several weeks and having a couple of talks with her about not losing focus if I watched, I apprehensively attended her soccer game.

Because this was my first game, I didn’t recognize all of the parents or even the kids on the team. Which led to an embarrassing situation when a woman came up to me on the sideline before the game and asked to whom she was supposed to be giving the money for the team trophies. Feeling very helpful, I pointed to the mom who was collecting the funds, when another mom nudged me and said, “Um … she’s not part of our team.” I apologized to the woman for directing her to the right person, though on the wrong team, and then realized how much money I could make by “collecting money for trophies” at the 63 million soccer games scheduled in this area every weekend.

(Aside: I may be submitting my next column from Tahiti.)

Coincidentally, the game I attended occurred on “Supportive Saturday,” a day designated by the soccer league as a time when coaches and parents are supposed to keep their pie holes shut and let the girls manage themselves on the field. It was very cute to hear them working together to do this, although one of the dads on the opposing team apparently did not get the memo and kept screaming directives at his daughter and the other members of her team throughout the game.

He followed up that bit of sportsmanship with this bit of conditional love: “Remember, every time you score a goal, you get a hug.”

By the way, Avery was not distracted at all by my presence, but I cannot say the same about the presence of her teammates. Together, they invented something called a “butt five” which replaced the standard high five they usually give each other whenever someone on their team scores a goal. And of course, every time they did this, they completely dissolved into giggles.

Even with all the silliness, Avery played really well and even scored a few times. Thank goodness, because otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to hug her afterward.