Soccer Star

Madeleine recently started playing soccer for the YMCA, and last weekend we went to her second game (we missed the first one because we were in Napa). I felt like I entered another phase of parenting -- one I didn't realize would be such a milestone. Attending her game was a lot of fun and, I hope, the beginning of many more Saturday morning sporting events. I went for a long run that morning and got home just in time to get Madeleine dressed in her (very large) uniform. Keith and I loaded the kids up in the double stroller and walked a few blocks to the field where the game was scheduled. The kids had a 30 minute practice before the whistle blew, and we watched as Madeleine took turns kicking the soccer ball into the goal. Like everything she does, she was cautious and precise -- no big, animated kicks, just controlled dribbling of the ball, right up to the net and then a gentle, direct kick into the goal. I realized that she'll play sports the way she lives life -- with reserved enthusiasm. I, on the other hand, was not reserved at all and found myself cheering and yelling loudly (in true form). Just when her little legs made it to one end of the field, the ball would inevitably be kicked back to the other end, and at one point she stopped and said, "I'm so sleepy!". Keith and I had to laugh.

The game was a blast. We met other parents, some as enthusiastic as us, and I felt bonded with these people instantly because watching your child's introduction to a team sport is a unique experience. I think I learned a lot of life lessons when I was a kid by playing sports, and I'm amazed that my daughter is already at that age. Her first lesson was a kick in the face. Literally. Towards the end of the game, Madeleine fell and while on the ground she accidentally got a cleat to the face. Almost a rite of passage when playing an aggressive team sport. It was a combination of pain and humiliation that made her cry, and I as held her and comforted her, I told her a story of a time when I got hurt playing soccer; I fell and someone stepped on my hand while running past me. I said that after I cried for a minute, I got back up and continued playing the game. I have to admit, it was a white lie, but I wanted her to understand that she'll probably get hurt occasionally and that shouldn't deter her from ever getting back on her feet.

As we quickly approach this Saturday's game, I look forward to seeing her out there again. I'm aware of the fact that she may decide she doesn't like soccer, and of course that would be fine with me, but in the meantime I'll enjoy this process of watching her uncover her talents.