Thursday, March 1, 2018

Reflections of a Soccer Mom: Staying Back

My son started playing soccer when he was about five and a half. His school added an extracurricular activity called soccer fundamentals. It was open to Kindergarten through second grade. He fell in love with the sport. At now age 8, he still plays. He is in the lead on this. It isn't like school. He has to finish any camp, training or season he asks to do; but he can stop at the end of any season. I ask, "Are you having fun?" I ask, "Do you want to keep playing?" He has the occasional rough training; but he continues to love the game.
As he gets older, sports provides more than a fun way to use his boundless energy. He is learning sportsmanship, how to interact with other children his age and how to interact with other adults. And he is getting stronger. And I don't mean his little six pack. He once cried when someone knocked him down during a game and didn't stop to apologize. After all, he would stop if he accidentally knocked someone over. We just had a little talk. Manners are important son; but unless you are hurt, get up and keep going. If you are hurt, alert the coach and he or she will know if you need me. The game (nor life) will stop for you otherwise.
He is still having fun; but he wants to get better. He is still in the lead. We have switched programs based on his personal goals. But I have also sought out programs based on an experienced and yes, male presence in the coaching staff. I'm ever aware of my son's needs and one of them, a large one is to be able to look up to where he is trying to go and see a man pointing the way. His father is gone; but my son even though he doesn't remember having a father is no less in need of male guidance.
He is still very young so I am his source for just about everything. I point him towards Jesus, develop his faith. He considers Jesus his superhero; but the almighty isn't shooting himself down to put a physical hand on his shoulder. My son can't hear Him speak in a deep voice. That's a grief that won't end; but my son's need remain. So I told myself I would let him be coached. I'm dropping significant money on these training sessions, practices and club fees. Then there's, the clothes, cleats, and the time. I don't need to coach him too. The emails asking for volunteer coaches are hard to ignore; but when raising a child on your own, it is important to have a chance to step back and let someone else push him forward, pick him up, turn him around as I watch.
He continues to take falls. But he always hops up. But then yesterday, I had a chance to see if I could be about what I'd been saying. About half way through his Junior Development Program training with the local professional team, he took a fall I could see was different. I heard that faint muffled cry. Parents know this cry, the one I was likely the only one to hear due to the unique connection we share. I leaned forward but gripped my chair as he slowly brought himself to his knees. He looked my way but then he looked the other. I knew he was not going to run to me. He wasn't quite sure yet if he was okay; but, he was clearly going ahead.
His coach came to his side. I could hear him ask Elijah if he was alright. I could see him check him over; but I could also hear him encourage you in a way I could not. He had a mouth full of dirt. "Great job. Some of the best sometimes taste the field. Means you're going for it. Keep working hard." My son got up. He went ahead. The next water break came. He looked at me; but then he looked away. He finished his break. He didn't take one step towards me. He gave me a wave and went back to his coach. If he didn't move fast enough, I heard "Hustle up Elijah!" And he moved. When he wasn't ready to defend during the one on one drills, I heard, "Be ready Elijah!" And whether he got beat off the dribble, he was ready for his turn.
Did we talk about it afterwards? Of course we did. "Did you see me fall?" "I saw you son." "I cried for a little minute." "I know you did." "How did you know?" "I heard you." "How did you hear that? I was keeping it quiet?" "Your cry came right to me through the other noise." I knew he might not get that so I went right on past it. "You're okay right?" "Yeah mom. I'm good. I got up and kept playing." "Did you have fun?" "Yeah, it was fun." "I'm glad you had fun. And you worked hard." "I want to be great, mom." "I know you do son. That's one of the reasons why we're out here." While he doesn't yet fully understand some of the other reasons, he'll still benefit.


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