Adieu Football

Bon Vendredi du Pere, Toute Personnes! Thanks to the folks at dad-blogs.com for organizing this wonderful weekly event (even if I didn’t win their Big Spring Contest.)

Since so many of you requested more funny soccer stories (okay, it was pretty much just Weasel Momma), I figured I’d try to oblige one LAST time.

That’s because SOCCER SEASON IS (FINALLY) OVER! (Not that I’m excited or anything.)

I hope I won’t offend the mom of one of my players who reads this blog, but my guess is that she feels about the same.

Since I’m not excited, I won’t sing the following song:

“Soccer season’s finally over, fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.
I must’ve found a four-leaf clover, fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.
Oh no, tee-ball starts to-morrow, fa-la-la, fa-la-la, la-la-la.
No rest for the Busy-Dad-E, fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.”

I also won’t share with you these top 10 things that I did during our last two soccer games:

10. Tied shoes (several times for several players). That’s going to leave a (cleat) mark.

9. Coaxed kids who were supposed to be playing to leave the sideline and come onto the field. (C’mon, you know you(r parents) want (you) to play.) By the end of the last game, I almost needed to start offering cash to get them to play.

8. Coaxed kids who weren’t playing to leave the field and go back to the sideline. (You didn’t want to play when it was your turn? Now that it’s someone else’s turn, you want to play? Did you come over to my house and watch Big and Little Brother play with toys? Even if it’s been two years since Big Brother looked at a particular toy, if Little Brother plays with it, then it becomes the hottest toy of the Christmas season.)

7. Asked the girls on the team to stop playing “tag” on the field. (Maybe if the YMCA started a Youth Tag league, the kids would show up and play soccer?)

6. Asked the boys on the team to stop playing in the dirt piles. (I started to propose a YMCA Youth Dirt Pile-Playing league, but the boys would just continue to play in the dirt piles.)

5. Escorted hysterically crying children back to their parents after they fell down chasing after the ball, were pushed down, or just started crying spontaneously.

4. Separated players from our own team who were fighting over the ball. (You’ll push and shove your own teammates to get the ball, but if the other team has the ball, you could care less. Hysterical.)

3. Asked Busy-Mom-E to take Big Brother potty during the game. Twice.

2. Carried Little Brother around the field while coaching to keep him from screaming. (Is he the coach, or an overinvolved parent?) Oh well, at least you don’t need your hands in soccer.)

1. Total number of minutes that I actually coached soccer during the last two games.

Let me just say that the soccer season ended on a somewhat unpleasant note for Big Brother. At yesterday’s game, it was unseasonably hot, and all of the kids were a little tired and cranky. Halfway between picking him up and arriving at the field, Big Brother decided he just didn’t want to play soccer.

Trying to change the mind of a stubborn strong-willed child is like beating your head against the wall (i.e., don’t do it.)

Eventually we did get Big Brother to play for one quarter. All it took was saying, “You can take your Blue’s Clues letter on to the field with you and play in the dirt.” He actually did engage in the game briefly, before returning to the dirt piles.

And of course, just as the game was finishing, he managed to throw dirt into his eye. This prompted a hysterical screaming fit. “My eye! My eye! I need a towel!” (There wasn’t a towel.) Big Brother was not going to calm down to let us do anything to help him.

Fearing a scratched cornea, I did the only thing a sensible thing a dad could do under the circumstances. I laid him down on the ground, pinned his limbs down with my legs, and squirted washed his eye with water from his water bottle. Ta-da!

Mom-E swore at that moment she saw a neon sign above my head that said, “Yes, I can control my child. Just not now.”

As much as I complained, it was a good experience. The kids had fun (at least when they were playing tag or playing in the dirt piles). This helped ease the pain of going 0-6 in our games, and losing by a margin of at least 5 goals per game. I had fun too, because for at least a moment (what now seems like a year ago), it made Big Brother very happy.

What else can you do with 3 and 4-year olds who really weren’t that excited about playing soccer in the first place?

That said, without a doubt, our team had the best, loudest, most high-spirited team cheer of any team in the league. Unfortunately, we made it a habit of checking our enthusiasm at the door.

Of course, I’m willing to bet that at the team’s end-of-season party, all of the kids will want to PLAY SOCCER! There can be no other alternative. I, on the other hand, will want to drink mojitos on a floating chair in the pool. Or, if there’s no pool, I guess I’ll just drink mojitos.

Tee-ball, however, will be even more fun (mostly because I won’t be coaching. At least until I get an email from the YMCA the day before saying, “Uh, we need coaches, or, uh, something bad’ll happen, uh, so we’re glad you’re the coach now.”) @#$%-ing YMCA!

So bring on the tee-ball! Wait a minute, did I just get excited about giving metal bats to 4 year-olds? Oh, am I going to have plenty to write about here.

Have a good weekend,
Busy-Dad-E