A Swarm of Bees

This year Shawn and I decided that it was high time we signed Nick up for a team sport. Neither of us ever played any sort of organized sport and thought it would be good for the kids if they had the chance to do so. We considered t-ball, but thought there was too much waiting involved for Nicholas. We would have loved football, but he's not old enough to play football in our town until next year. So, we settled on soccer.

Soccer is not really a favorite of ours. Honestly, Shawn and I don't participate in or watch any sports. However, since we figured at this age soccer would mostly be a gaggle of children running after a ball up and down a field, we thought this was perfect for our Nick.

We managed to figure out how to go about registering and even managed to request that Nick be on the same team as my girlfriend's son, but then we were left in the dark as to when the season would start, what the schedule would be like, what team he would be on... all sorts of things I thought would be important to know. All they told us was to sell this box of candy and to expect games to begin in September.

Sometime in the end of August, we got a phone call from a lovely man, Nick's Coach. Coach told us that practice would be on Thursdays and that games would be on Saturdays AND Sundays each week. WHAT?!?!? Nobody told us that we would have games on BOTH days of the weekends. We hardly have the time to get done what needs to get done as is, how are we going to handle throwing in games on both days of the weekend plus a weeknight? Coach also told us that we were playing for TSS Photography. Later I found out that our uniform shirts and socks were yellow and Nick was number 3. I managed to ask if my girlfriend's son was on our team and was so relieved to find out that she was and that I was not alone in this.

As much as we didn't like the schedule, we knew we did this for Nick, so we were going to hang in there for his sake. Unfortunately, since we didn't have the schedule ahead of time, we missed their first game. His first practice was too cute. Some of the kids were old enough that they played last year and/or last season and some of the kids were just as clueless as Nick. Coach had them playing games like "kick the coach" and running drills. Nick held his own. After practice we treated him to pizza and headed home. After running around for an hour, Nick actually seemed to be much more calm at home that night.

That weekend we were to attend our very first game. Division 7 teams play 5-on-5 with 3 offensive players and 2 full backs. Right, like any 4- or 5-year-old is really going to hold position. I was surprised to see that, for the most part, our team really did hold position. Our full backs didn't come far out of the goal and our offensive players did their best to get the ball into the other team's 'cookie jar' (Coach called their net a cookie jar because our objective was to get into their cookie jar - something all kids can understand wanting to do). Aside from holding their basic positions, this game really was 10 kids on a field and each of them wanting that ball. Since our boys were in yellow and black, it looked like a swarm of bees running around on the field. Kids were taking the ball from their own team mates without even realizing it. All they knew was that they wanted a chance to kick the ball.

By about half way through the season, the kids were showing a bit more control and patience. We won some games and we lost some games, but this is a non-competitive Division, so there were no official standings or anything. Nick did not score a goal during the season, but he did have a few really impressive plays.

During one of the games, Nick was able to get control of the ball and break away from the mob of children. He was headed straight toward the net with it. Since most of the other teams did not hold position, they had no defensive players anywhere near the net. It was a sure thing that he was about to score not only his very first goal, but the first goal of that game. I had become a soccer mom. I was jumping out of my folding camp chair, screaming at the top of my lungs and could feel my heart racing with excitement. All of a sudden, one of his own team mates must've misjudged how fast Nick was dribbling and accidentally ran over him. This boy did not simply trip Nick. He ran up his legs and across his back. Nick was laid out flat. Now, Nick may be overly dramatic (he was voted most dramatic in his class at this past year's graduation ceremony), but this time I don't think he was over reacting. Both teams took a knee and Coach ran over to check on Nick. As hard as it was to not run out on the field, I stood back and allowed Coach to do his job. Once I saw that he was checking Nick's wrist I could take no more. I ran out to the 20 yard line where my son was downed on his way toward his first goal. He had a couple bright red, cleat-shaped marks on his back, a pretty serious grass stain on his knee and tears in his eyes. After making him promise me that he would go back into the game for his turn during the 3rd quarter, I carried Nick off the field. Parents from both sides of the field applauded.

Nick really was OK, but still requested to play full back when he was called in for the third quarter. Coach allowed this and Nick was thrilled. He was doing a really good job blocking the shots on goal and didn't seem to mind that the other full back on his team was daydreaming more often that defending the net. The other team was able to make a shot on the net that was out of Nick's reach. Instead of just letting them score, my little Nick-Nick decided to jump up into the ball and block it with his chest. All you heard was the thunk of the ball hitting his ribcage. Silence from players and parents alike as we waited - what seemed like an eternity - to see if Nick was injured again or if he was proud of his awesome block. Nick simply looked down at his shirt, brushed the dirt off from where the ball hit and beamed this smile of pride that could be seen from the other end of the field. I was pretty sure he was not going to be too afraid to keep playing.

After getting run down, Nick was able to get the ball a couple other times, but as soon as he got up toward the other team's net and had to go head-to-head with their full back, he seemed to loose his steam. I'm not sure if it was fear because that's how he got hurt before, he didn't understand how to try to get around the other team, he really did get tired or just couldn't get the ball into the net. No matter, I was just thrilled that he was having a good time.

At one of the practices we actually got to have - most of our practices were rained out and we only wound up having 3 or 4 all season - Coach approached us and asked us which time slot we wanted for tag day. We had no idea what tag day was, but Shawn signed his name for a Saturday in front of a grocery store. Yes, we were to become those people who not only allow, but promote their children begging for money, with a tin can in hand, in front of a grocery store. Those people that I've always hated. Not because I have anything against them fundraising, but more because I don't usually have any cash on me and I hate the look of disappointment/hatred in the kids' eyes when I tell them that I would love to donate, but that I simply don't have any cash on me. Since we were not going to bring Evan along for the begging-for-money adventure, we left it up to Nick to decide which of us he wanted to bring him to tag day. Oh shucks, he chose Shawn. They were scheduled for the last hour-long shift of the day. Shawn tells me that Nick did fantastic. He spoke clearly and was polite to everyone. Everyone except the 2 people who flat out ignored him. To those individuals my son (yes, he's MY son here because I'm positive he learned this passive-aggressive behavior from me) shouted out, "hey, that's OK, thanks anyway" to their backs in a disgusted tone that had Shawn near hysterics. Nick was a natural. He would charm women by telling them he liked their purse and then follow up with asking for a donation. For the people who apologized but said they didn't have any money (hmmm, people like me) Nick was perfectly understanding and offered an honest, "thanks anyway". There was even a woman who claimed to not have money, Nick chatted her up and she wound up digging through her purse until she was able to find some change to give him. I was told that, during the full hour they were there, the only people that didn't appear to be absolutely taken with Nick were the two people who didn't acknowledge that he was even there. It's good to know that if our pro football dreams for Nick don't come to fruition, he has a great career of panhandling he can fall back on.

After all the complaining that I did about the schedule and the anxiety about starting up something new, turns out that we all seemed to really enjoy soccer. An old friend of mine once said to me when I first started dating Shawn that, if we were to get married and I were to take his last name, my married name would sound like a soccer mom's name. Here I am, 10-years later, driving a minivan and cheering on 10 little bumble bees while they play their hardest each weekend. I guess there is something in a name, huh?

Anyway, the season is over now and, I hate to admit it, but I sort of miss it. Coach tells us that there will be a post-season party at Chuck-E-Cheese in the coming weeks and that each player will be given a trophy for their participation. The parents will also get their children's pictures from the photo shoot half-way through the season.

Nick has decided that, instead of playing soccer again in the spring, he wants to give t-ball a try with my girlfriend's son. What the heck, we'll give it a try and hope that the schedule isn't as demanding. Then, if Nick wants to give it anther try, we'll go ahead and sign up for soccer again next fall.

I now understand why I was not involved in team sports. It is a big commitment, financially and time-wise. I do, however, believe that it's really good for the children and hope to be able to continue to allow Nick to play whatever sport he wants to play. I must admit though, I'm terrified for when Evan's big enough to play too. I have no idea how we'll manage the schedule then. I s'pose we'll figure it out somehow - other people manage and I'm sure we will too. I the mean time, I have the most adorable little bumble bee jersey with a number 3 on the back that I will hold onto forever as my Nick Nick's first every sports jersey. I may be a sentimental fool, but I'm a sentimental, proud, soccer mom fool!