Soccer Season

Our families first soccer season has drawn to a close and we went out on a high note.

It snowed on our final game of the season.

I felt like I caught a glimpse of all those games that my mom endured wearing the ugliest clothing combinations that she could muster all in the name of warmth. And I understood.

We had the pleasure of not just one game but two games. An hour or so apart. In the snow. And sweet Amy Noll WANTED to watch three year old and five-eight year old soccer-why? I don't know. Because mainly it looks like this:

Yes. That kid is eating the soccer net.

The other kid is simply growling at the other team.

Not kicking the actual ball. Just growling.

This was the only time Lucy ran during her whole game.

But this is what Y soccer is all about.

1. The trophy.

2. The friendships.

Look how big my boy looks!

3. Learning patience. Waiting your turn.

5. Fundamentals of the game.

How to absolutely destroy a ball into the back of the net.

Look at that focus. Just like his mom.

6. Letting fans of other teams touch us. Until we destroy them in the Swamp.

7. Learning how to cheer on the count of THREE!

8. Perfect the art of the soccer boy stance.

9. We're back to the trophy.

It's all about the trophy.

Lover Not a Fighter

I've been playing soccer this fall.

It took a lot of convincing to get me to give up on only running and get back on the field. For several reasons.

1) I'm not 18, but 32.

2) I have two children to take care of. I do NOT want an ACL tear, shattered ankle, broken arm etc. to nurse for the next half a year or so because I am playing in a Co-Ed Beer League.

3) I played soccer in college. I don't have a whole lot to prove.

But, I do love playing soccer and since I am not doing YL this year, I have a little bit of space in my schedule to add in one night a week to play.

It has been really fun and life giving.

Until Friday night.

My team was up 1-0 in a game that we really had no business winning. The other team had peppered our goal with 40 yard shots that were coming from rifles and missing. They were getting frustrated.

Late in the second half, I had the ball with one girl to beat before I could take a shot on goal. I made my move and was about to be in the clear when WHAM! I was blindsided from behind. I crumpled on the turf, the referee blew his whistle and my teammates all started yelling.

I popped up immediately but not before I got in my opponents face with a few choice words about how I felt about being taken down from behind.

He got back in my face immediately and in a pretty threatening manner. I was surprised but not fearful. After all, I have a team of men on my team, my husband on the sideline and I have the mistaken impression that nothing bad will ever happen to me.

So I take my pointer finger and lift it towards his face and say, "No! No! No!" Because, I had little else to add to the situation.

Cooler heads prevailed but not before Matt was at mid-field, my team was fired up and we spent the rest of the game in a physical throw-down. There were so many altercations for the rest of the game that it was embarrassing.

I realized it has been about 10 years since I acted that way.

In college, I was a totally different personality on the field and off the field.

I haven't struggled like that while playing this season. Mostly because I think that God has been ACTUALLY changing me into a whole person. But that old person creeped on out because I didn't want to have my ACL torn on a Friday night playing against another restaurant team. I totally lost my cool.

But I have laughed really hard at myself because of how ridiculous I must have look yelling at a grown man in the middle of a soccer field.

When am I ever going to grow up?

It Has Begun

The day that I have been waiting for since I saw that little plus sign on stick came yesterday.

Our first soccer practice.

We've had a few practices around our house to get ready for the big day.

But yesterday, was the big day.

Germany and Brazil.

Here we come.

The swell of pride can hardly be contained.

I did my best to just stay on the sidelines. No coaching emerged out of my lips. Simple encouragement to stop cutting the grass, sitting on the ball and watching the planes take off from the airport. That's ALL.

Check out my ballers.

It's gonna be domination station.

Watch out YMCA league.

You will never be the same.

Delayed Obedience

I just read this incredible article about professional soccer player Chase Hilenbrink (from Clemson) who left pro soccer to pursue being a Catholic priest. This article speaks of the incredible fortitude it takes and the risks that people will take on in order to follow the call of God even if it makes NO sense to those around them.
He sited a quote that said, "Delayed obedience is the same as disobedience."
Intrigued?
Take a look: Washington Post