
Soccer has been miserable for us. That's the nicest way to put it.
Initially, when I saw the flier at our church about soccer, I was THRILLED. This would be her 1st sport...first time I could cheer and she could shine athletically. We were one of the 1st to sign up and I nearly teared up when I saw her uniform shirt with our Catholic School logo on it. I bought pink umbros and pink shin guards and the sassiest soccer ribbon for her bows. Her ball was purple AND pink and we were READY.
I should have known that we wouldn't enjoy soccer when I took her to play outside before her first practice/game...that's how they did it: practice for 15 minutes and play a 'game' for about 30 minutes with another team. First lesson and Miriam was tired within 7 minutes. She can run in a circle for an hour and half, but soccer, 7 minute limit.
She loved kicking the ball, but hated when someone else kicked it away from her. She would get mad, show attitude, embarrass me and Paul...lots of pouting and dramatic huffing on the field. It really was awful. Family and friends would want to come to games and we would warn them, "It's really not fun. Expect her to show out." She never let us down.

I sadly learned that I'm one of those crazy, sports parents who criticizes the coach, other players and their parents. These children were THREE YEARS OLD and rationally, I know they barely knew not to use their hands. But, it didn't stop me from yelling at my child like she needed a soccer scholarship. Paul got on to me during one game and I calmed myself down. He is always good at keeping me in check.
In the end, it got a *bit* better. She scored a goal in her last game by tripping over the kid with the ball and falling into the goal. We cheered and convinced her it counted for her goal. She ADORED getting a trophy and did a dance about it.

We've decided that we will try soccer again when she is Six years old and I have better meds.
No comments:
Post a Comment