After a little bit of a rough start, soccer season has officially started!
I say a little bit of a rough start, because there was some ... okay, quite a bit ... of confusion surrounding sign-ups and practice schedules. For example, three kids showed up for Sam's team's first soccer practice. I have never played soccer, but the last time I checked you definitely needed more than three people on a team to play.
There have also been some adjustments getting used to new coach's. Peter's coach, for example, is as old as my dad and is like a jidou on the sidelines. As he coaches the kids, he switches back and forth between Arabic and English, so every kid on the team only gets about half of what he is saying unless they are perfectly bilingual; Peter is not. He also yells, "Shoot it!" every time any kid has the ball regardless of where they are on the field, even playing defense. I get that I think he means, pass it, kick it, dribble it, score, whatever, just do something with it.
Sam's coach, on the other hand, is a young gun out to prove something. Sam is growing fast. He is in fifth grade and almost a middle-schooler. Almost. He is still a kid with a big heart. I think his coach sometimes thinks he is running drills at Camp Lejeune. Sam will play hard given the right motivation, but he is like me. He doesn't respond well to being screamed at. I remember one occasion swimming in college when the coach yelled at me and I also remember thinking, "This is swimming. Is it really worth yelling about?"
The first week's games went well, though, despite the initial hiccups. Peter's team was demolished, 1-8, but he did score their only goal!
I say a little bit of a rough start, because there was some ... okay, quite a bit ... of confusion surrounding sign-ups and practice schedules. For example, three kids showed up for Sam's team's first soccer practice. I have never played soccer, but the last time I checked you definitely needed more than three people on a team to play.
There have also been some adjustments getting used to new coach's. Peter's coach, for example, is as old as my dad and is like a jidou on the sidelines. As he coaches the kids, he switches back and forth between Arabic and English, so every kid on the team only gets about half of what he is saying unless they are perfectly bilingual; Peter is not. He also yells, "Shoot it!" every time any kid has the ball regardless of where they are on the field, even playing defense. I get that I think he means, pass it, kick it, dribble it, score, whatever, just do something with it.
Sam's coach, on the other hand, is a young gun out to prove something. Sam is growing fast. He is in fifth grade and almost a middle-schooler. Almost. He is still a kid with a big heart. I think his coach sometimes thinks he is running drills at Camp Lejeune. Sam will play hard given the right motivation, but he is like me. He doesn't respond well to being screamed at. I remember one occasion swimming in college when the coach yelled at me and I also remember thinking, "This is swimming. Is it really worth yelling about?"
The first week's games went well, though, despite the initial hiccups. Peter's team was demolished, 1-8, but he did score their only goal!
Pete's team huddling.
Peter in action. Of all three kids, he actually did the most running. This is one of the rare moments he was standing still.
Okay, so maybe he did more standing around then I remember.
Clementine was -- by far -- the most colorful player on her team.
I'm not exactly sure she understand yet what exactly it is she's supposed to be doing.
And she had her fair share of standing around, as well.
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