Just a soccer game
Last Saturday was a wonderfully sunny and perfect temperatured day. Since temperatured is underlined in squiggly red, it must not be a real word but I’m sure all of you know exactly what I mean.
Our oldest grandson plays ‘goalie’ on two teams and goes for lessons/training/camp/coaching with the professional team in Houston. We were invited to watch one of his games—and this past Saturday, things all lined up perfectly for the opportunity.
Warm-up happens first with much kicking of soccer balls and running back and forth. His younger brother entertained himself by asking such vital quesions as ‘what happened to my cheeks?” Wrinkles! If you don’t look in the mirror, you still remember yourself as a much younger–and wrinkle-free self—but the knees always remind you of your age!
The game started.
His mother watched enthusiastically—she is from Venezuela and I did not know she was such a soccer fan!
He did not see a great deal of action; the game was very lop-sided with the other team short three players. In soccer, you play with the number you have==sometimes there are several on time-out periods. As the score mounted, the referee began to call more and more infractions–in youth soccer, the goal is for the kids to have fun and learn the basics—but it isn’t fun to be on the losing side—so referees have the option to call more infractions, to insist on swapping out players.
That does sound like I know what I”m talking about—-I must admit to being a soccer coach many years ago.
This little guy rewarded me with a great smile
Isn’t he adorable?
Sylvia Weir Art 