Soccer Time

Had I started this post a week ago, it would have been quite different.  This time last week I felt like a loser mom and was sad for my new little soccer player.  I don't think it melodramatic to say that our first soccer practice was a disaster.  LO spent about 90% of his 45 minutes on the field crying.  I had stood on the sidelines with DH and our friend April theorizing about what exactly the problem might have been.  We all had different ideas.  Did he think the coaches were yelling because he was in trouble? Was he intimidated by the number of kids hustling around him?  Was he frustrated or scared of a new experience? Was he sad that we weren't playing with him? It turned out the answer was E-all of the above.  I, who over-prepares for so many situations, just completely dropped the ball on this one.  Maybe I had been too busy and just not given it enough thought.  Maybe I just didn't know what to expect enough to prepare LO better.  I think we were especially surprised because LO had been so incredibly excited to play.  Neither DH nor myself stopped to think that we had led him to unrealistic expectations.

So as LO walked onto the field for the first time he asked me if DH and I would go play with him.  I casually answered that it was time for him to play with his team and then trotted over to be with the other soccer moms.  LO took about two steps onto the field in his new cleats then did a total face plant.  I had to cover my mouth so I wouldn't laugh out loud. It was the first of about a dozen such falls from LO during his first practice.  It turns out that cleats take some getting used to.  I felt so badly for him for the falls, but he didn't seem to care about those.  He was definitely in a funk about plenty of other things though.  While 15 other three to five years olds (mostly fours, I'd guess) swarmed over the field playing sharks and minnows, mine headed to the edges with his ball in tears or left his ball and was still in tears.  It broke our hearts.  I wanted so badly to run onto the field, scoop him up and make everything better for him.  I didn't though.  I know this boy and I knew that scooping him up would just teach him to cry for mommy each week.  So, I stood, I watched, I smiled and waved, and I felt just awful about it.  At one point I was talking to my friend April about wanting to go get him when another mom did go to him and he cried to her, then she point to me from across the field, I waved, she tied his shoe, then he turned to go back to the field...and did a face plant. While I was grateful to that mom for her kindness to LO, I felt even more like a schmuck when she responded to him and I...waved. The next water break he came to me in tears, stammering between sobs, "I...want...to...go...home mommy!" (Insert sound of my heart breaking a little more) "We will go home when practice is over buddy, right now you should be with your team."  I replied.  Bless April for noticing then that they were no longer playing sharks and minnows, but lining up in two teams to run two at a time to the cones and back.  She encouraged him to try being on the field when there was less commotion and he reluctantly agreed.  He shuffled back to his team, and I stood ready to cheer my heart out. Finally it was his turn to run to the cone while his team and parents watched.  He got ready to be tagged, took a step, and...did a face plant! (I'm not kidding, poor kid!) He did get up and run to the cone after that (a light jog is more like it...he was lacking much hustle).  It was not too much longer before the practice was mercifully over.  His coach spoke to us briefly and commented that he would get to know LO better in the coming weeks and be able to interact with LO in a way that suited him.  "Tonight I learned that you don't yell near him and you don't joke with him.  It's a joke among the coaches to say 'Am I a real monster?', but he didn't like that when I said it.  I'll get to know him better and he'll do fine!"  I had mixed emotions about that comment.  I was so impressed and grateful to Coach John for taking notice of my kid and his needs in the midst of a crazy practice with 15 other kids.  I was so encouraged that he had accurately described two things about LO that some people take forever to realize.  I also wondered what would possess a grown man to ask a 3 year old if he was a monster...do ANY three year olds respond well to that?

Well, if the first practice was a disaster, DH was the knight in shining armor.  First of all, while I was watching LO fall apart on the field, NB was making himself busy on the sidelines.  I tried to help contain him, but I apparently missed  few things...like him being at least six inches off the ground actually climbing the chain link fence.  DH rescued him from that situation.  DH also felt it important to kick the ball around with LO after practice.  Brilliant!  He and LO did just that for about 5 minutes and LO just beamed.  DH felt reassured that the kid enjoyed playing with him.  We hoped that meant that soccer school might work out after all.

The ride home was eye-opening.  LO talked a blue streak about why he was crying and what happened during practice.  It turns out that, in addition to our educated guesses, he was stressed out that he didn't know what to do.  The coach kept saying "don't let them get your ball" and LO thought they other kids were actually going to take it and not give it back!  When they played sharks and minnows he, no doubt, remembered she sharks we just saw at the aquarium.  "I don't want to be on the field with sharks mama.  Are they really going to be sharks?"  I tried to allay his fears.  "It's my first time being a soccer mama, and I didn't know what to do today either" I told him.  We agreed we should go back the next time and try again.

The next morning, Nanny K asked how soccer was.  I let LO answer. "It was good. I cried some. I didn't want to be on the field with sharks."  he said matter-of-factly.  A few days later, Aunt Cat came to visit.  She asked him about soccer, and I hadn't told her about it yet.  "It was good." was all he said.  Yep, maybe there was hope.

This past Tuesday was the next practice.  Our little foursome schlepped too much stuff out into the hot, humid, August evening to try it all again.  This time LO's ball had his name on it.  He knew he would be the only on taking it home. We had practiced using outside voices in the house.  We talked about why coaches sound like they are yelling outside, and how that is different from being in trouble. Coach John didn't yell anymore anyway.  Instead he challenged the boys to knock him over and then tumbled over the field when they kicked the ball hard enough.  Ten minutes into practice and we all thought there would be no tears.  Then there were.  We're not sure why, but they were brief.  All in all, he did much much better.  He stayed with his team the whole time, and occasionally actually ran after the ball!   The ride home Tuesday was even more humorous than the first.  He talked up how well he protected the ball and how he knocked Coach over.  If he played as good of a game as he talked, he would be a superstar!

Our soccer boy in red at his second practice.

 Yesterday was his first game.  DH had to work late, but Nanny K stayed for most of it and our neighbor down the street came to watch too.  There were a few tears early on as the Coach didn't start him (or maybe they were for another reason), but otherwise he was a trooper.  He ran out of his shoe at one point, needed a potty break mid-game, and once just started shuffling along the fence leaving his team down a player.  Otherwise there were fewer face plants, he kicked the ball a number of times, and even had a goal assist! (He kicked it to the goal, but it didn't quite go in, so another player helped) The highlight for me was seeing him red faced, sweaty and running down the field with a huge grin on his face.

The Rays: Mitchell, Henry, LO, Graham, Josiah, Scout (LO's buddy), and Charlotte is MIA.

Warming-up

LO  and Charlotte on offense.  His coach had to tell him to go kick the ball so they could start.

LO with a little hustle in his first game

Go Rays!

My sweaty, tired soccer boy in his new jersey. "Can I keep this shirt forever mama?"

What a difference a week makes!  It seems we might have a soccer-lover on our hands after all.  Way to stick with it, buddy.  We are proud of you!