Tuesday night, I took Will to the girls' playoff game. A couple of my sophomores are on the varsity soccer team at school, and they were in the first round of the playoffs. One of my girls scored two goals and had two assists, leading the team to a 6-0 victory. The Lady Jags scored all six goals in the first half, playing into a pretty rough wind. It was a fun game to watch.
When my student scored the first goal of the game, a beautiful arc from the right wing, I cheered right along with the crowd. Will's face just crumpled, and big crocodile tears rolled down his cheeks. He didn't know what to make of his mommy yelling like that. Unfortunately, keeping my cheering quiet and to a minimum didn't help much. Will cried for three of the goals, and stuck his little lower lip out and whined for the other three.
By the second half, however, Will started to get into the game...or at least the crowd at the game. He enjoyed playing peekaboo with the women behind us, and he even started clapping in delight. I was sure he wouldn't make it the full 80 minutes (high school games are a bit shorter than professional games), but he was a trooper. He held on for the whole game. I think he actually had more fun as the evening went on instead of tiring out.
This is definitely not his last game.
1 comment:
If Will felt unnerved by your enthusiastic cheers at the game, I wonder what he'd make of his Grandma's ref-bashing? Do you remember that time she almost got an entire sideline carded? That's my Mama! I know where my over-developed sense of justice comes originated.
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