Soccer Scrimmage

Yesterday evening at 5:30 was Luke's last soccer practice for the season. As such, the coach told all the parents to come to practice prepared to play in a scrimmage with the kids: parents vs. boys. Chuck handles Evie's practice and I always handle Luke's practice. So, I showed up in tennis shoes, running shorts and my bright pink Tony Romo t-shirt (I can be such a girl) ready for a quick scrimmage. On our way to the park I explained that we were going to play a soccer scrimmage against each other. Luke was fascinated and impressed.

He asked, "Mom, do you think you're going to win?"

I sighed heavily and responded confidently, "No."

He cocked his head to the side and with sympathy and understanding in his voice he responded, "Because you're a girl?"

My eyes widened as I yelped, "WHAT? Did you really just say that?"

He looked confused.

I continued, "No! I can't believe you just said that."

He started to smile, knowing that he'd managed to rile me up, but not quite knowing how he did it.

I said, "No. Not because I'm a girl. I was thinking more because I'm OLD. You better take back the bit about me being a girl."

He smirked at me as I glanced at him in my rear view mirror.

I narrowed my eyes, "You better take it back or I'm going to get you when we get to the field." I sounded like a six-year old myself.

He laughed.

I sobered, "No seriously. Take it back."

He laughed some more.

He took it back before we got there, though. Good boy.

So, the Coach warned that any parent would be expected to play unless they were holding a baby. I was the only mom that showed up. The other parents that showed up were dads, and some moms just dropped their boys and bolted. Yup, I'm a sucker.

So I went out on the field to play soccer. Now let me tell you that I have played soccer in the past. I hate it. I. HATE. IT. I am not an athlete. I'm not meant to be an athlete. I will never be an athlete. Got it? So, when I was coerced to play on this co-ed soccer team many years ago, the guys on the team instructed me to stand by the goal and they would kick the ball as hard as they could at me so that it would bounce off of me and into the goal. The purpose of this is because if a girl scored a goal, the team got two points, whereas if a guy scored the goal, the team only got one point. So, I was basically like one of those parts in a pinball machine where the ball bounces off of me to go to the right spot. It hurt. It was humiliating. But I did it, because I recognize that as a stationary object I was fulfilling my maximum athletic ability.

With that said, I tried to play last night. In doing so, Luke took me on at every turn and spent a fair amount of time trying to do fake karate and punches on me. Not a whole lot of fun and I'm pretty sure not allowed in the rules of soccer. Anyhow, at one point the two of us were running after the ball together and out of instinct I grabbed his arm to keep him from getting the ball. He fell to the ground and the ball went out of bounds.

That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I took down my own six-year old son.

Then I heard the coach say, "Time out. Did everyone see what happened here?" All the boys stopped and the coach continued, "Mrs. B tripped another player." I started to giggle in embarrassment. Other than Luke, the boys were not offended by my actions. Luke, on the other hand, was pissed and crying, as he said, "You pushed me down!" I cringed and tried to slink down as small as I could get. I apologized, pulled him up off the ground and dusted him off.

Luke got to take a penalty shot because his mom fouled him. I suck.

The rest of the game, Luke defended me (continuing his karate chops) and lectured me on what I could and could not do in the game of soccer, emphasizing that I could not trip another player.

After that game I ran home, showered, and headed out to a party for one of my organizations. Let me tell you that my entire body hurts today from my athletic endeavors of the day before.

Ouch. I definitely got my comeuppance.