Victory


On a sunny and warm late September morning the Potty Mouthed Hussies of Our Lady of the Subdural Hemotoma overcame their hated rivals, the Robber Barons from St. Rockefellers, by the score of 6-2. It has been two days since then and I still haven’t stopped smiling. Those little scrappers made me so proud. To put it in perspective you have to know that last year their sports teams went 1-3-2 in Soccer, 1-11 in basketball, and 0-12 in Softball. So when Lil’ Miss 20 Prospect scored the first goal of her soccer career to put us up by 1, and then added 3 more for good measure, our joy was rivaled only by our surprise. Who are these kids? And where the hell did they learn how to play soccer?

Oh yeah, that’s right. I taught them.

Forget everything I have accomplished in my 20 years in the workplace. The big contracts, the record sales, the innovative new products that won us major rewards. Those were just a warm up for my greatest managerial feat. I’m sure the calls will soon be pouring in from Major League Soccer. Don’t worry, I plan on being selective. No need to sign with the first team that interviews me.

OK, maybe I shouldn’t be taking credit for the victory. I suppose it was the 12 girls on the squad that really did all the work. No, I can’t lay claim to winning. However, when they tell me how much fun they are having playing this year, and we win too, that’s what really makes me feel warm and fuzzy.

These are the years of parenting when you can get involved in your childs excurricular life, and get to know their friends, and classmates, and see the character that they are building by observing them up close. These years will be over soon enough. By High School there will be real coaches to coach the teams, and the percentage of girls that play will drop precipitously. My role as a parent will change as well. Just like it did when they reached tweenhood, and I went from being a superhero like figure that knew everything, and could fix anything, to being someone to roll their eyes at. That’s why I cherish these times of coaching so much. It’s probably the only time that I can get my kids to listen and do what I say without arguing or letting out a heavy sigh.

So what happens when they go off to High School? My role changes yet again and we become focused on the three “I”‘s. Namely, trying to keep them from being inebriated, impregnated, or incarcerated.

Oh the joys of parenting. Take my advice and enjoy the little victories as you get them, and don’t ever take success for granted.

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10 thoughts on “Victory

  1. My daughter played on a traveling team when she was little. “Traveling team”, if you’re in Albert Lea, means driving to the Twin Cities suburbs. A lot. They kicked a lot of ass. By chance, as a team, they had the magic ingredient, that one uncoachable quality – foot speed. Everybody said they’d win the state title by the time they were seniors. Wrong. They (my daughter included) discovered boys, music, fast cars, drama, whatever. What was left was still a good team, but not the dream of the local soccer aficionados.

    • It’s a cliche but it’s true. The kids that excel at sports at a young age are seldom the ones that do so as an adult. Yet that doesn’t stop parents from thinking their 9 year old little leaguer is bound for glory.

    • Same here. It’s out of control for all travel sports. Soccer, Baseball, Swimming, Hockey, Badminton.

      OK, I made up the part about badminton, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time.

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