With four kids playing soccer, Saturdays are pretty much shot during the months of May and June. Nancy and I take turns transporting the kids back and forth to the soccer field because the games are spread out all through the day. Today we had two games at 11:00, one at 2:00 and one at 5:00. I don’t mind watching the games of Emily, Anne, and Caroline because the game resembles soccer after a fashion; however, it is pure torture watching Sam’s games because other than the fact that there is a ball and a goal the game looks nothing like soccer. It’s just a big herd of kids running back and forth.
As I’ve been watching soccer games the past few weeks, I’ve observed that the only thing that really separates the athletic kids from the non-athletic kids is basically the level of agressiveness. It doesn’t matter if they are big tall kids, short kids, fat kids, or skinny kids – all of the athletic ones seem aggressive and all of the dorks seem timid. Emily’s team has a really big/tall kid on it that looks like he is athletic but in fact he is as timid as a field mouse. I try to tell my kids to be more aggressive but I also remember back to my kid-sport experiences and can specifically remember being unsure/timid on the soccer and baseball field.
Watching my kids play soccer is both disappointing and comforting. It’s disappointing to know that none of my kids are very athletic (Anne is long and gangly so she may turn out to be a good runner but she has zero coordination. Also, there’s still hope for Diana. She seems pretty aggressive and willing to mix it up with her older sibilings). It’s comforting to know that, with the exception of one or two kids on each team, the vast majority of kids playing soccer are as unathletic as my own.