Today was Trace’s first soccer game with his new team, FC Spokane B00 White, in the River City Cup Tournament. A massive two day tournament of 220 teams from multiple states and Canadian provinces, 1700 kids. We didn’t know what to expect from the team or the tournament. We didn’t know what position he would play, how his coach would coach in a game, or how much playing time Trace would be given. I’m confident in our son’s abilities, yet I was anxious on how everything would come together.
After the game, as Trace and I drove home, I said “You had a great first play of your game”. The play was a pass assist that scored a goal. Trace said, “Yeah, in the second half”. “Yes,” I said, “your first play of the game”. We bantered back and forth a bit until I realized my error.
Here’s what happened…from my perspective.
Trace didn’t start, which is fine, he needed to see how the team played. You see, at practice, we train with a U-14 team that our coach also coaches. At least 25 7th and 8th graders are on the field at every practice. Knowing who has been on our team, let alone the positions they play have been a mystery. Team-building events haven’t yet been scheduled. Trace, with time, has adjusted. Yet, with all of this, I agreed with the coach to not start Trace. No issue.
The first half continued, and from what I could tell, Trace sat on the bench the entire first half. You have to understand that I have terrible vision. I was sitting on one side of the field, and the team bench is on the other side. Typically my kid has some discernable feature, his floppy blond hair, his crazy colored cleats, or his jersey number, to help me see him on the field. He got a haircut so his blond tresses are gone and at least 3 other kids on his team have matching cleats. Because he was sitting facing the field, I couldn’t see his jersey number on his back.
Not knowing any of the parents on the sidelines, I didn’t say anything. I kept it all contained. You read that correctly. I didn’t say one word out loud the entire first half. For those of you who have heard me at a soccer game, you know the impossibility of this miracle. Vince, who stayed home with the sleeping brothers, received a bunch of text messages like “WTH? He’s still on the bench?!” At first Vince fed my frustration but then came to his senses and told me to trust the coach. Sheesh. I was hot.
Trace started the second half and played all but a quick water break. He was playing left forward, so he was right in front of me. I could see him fine. All was well in the world, I met some of the other families, the team won 5-1 and everyone was happy.
In the car on the way home, after I relayed this story to Trace, he just looked at me and shook his head. “Mom, I was the first sub and other than water breaks, I played the whole game”. He told me that I didn’t miss anything in the first half, he was nervous and had a few weenie kicks but he loves playing left-mid.
“What? I thought you were playing forward?” “Really Mom? We play a 4-4-2 line up, I played left midfield the whole game.” “Oh.”
I seriously have to pay attention. You would have thought it was my first game. Oh wait, it was my first game…with FC Spokane.
[how I’m going to explain my incopetency the rest of the season is….to be continued…]
multi-hyphenated-me 