This Soccer Mom Needs a Drink, or Several

You might remember my post about becoming a soccer mom earlier this year. Well, it turns out, my kid would rather poke his own eyeballs out than to play soccer so we are currently counting down to Halloween, which marks the end of the season. *Party at my house, everyone!* To be honest, I can't say I blame him. It's definitely time to get that participation trophy and RUN, far, far away. In all fairness, I don't think it's soccer in particular that he hates, but the experience has turned him off a bit to it. Some general musings from my time on the soccer field (and I'm sure there will be more since I have a month left of this nonsense):

Vicarious. The amount of Dad's that are vicariously living through their four year old sons is annoying. Coaches, assistant coaches and those guys on the sidelines. I guess it's easy to do if you're a big sports guy and heaven forbid your son rather sit on the bench or pick grass or chase butterflies. Sorry, but you get what you get. Not that there is no chance of the kid who chases butterflies ending up being the captain of the football team but in the event that said kid ends up like the kid on Glee, it's probably best to accept it earlier than later.

Bullies. My kid got the shit kicked outa him by another teammate and his older sister at the first soccer meeting, hence the reason why this soccer gig started off on the wrong foot. Despite our attempts to work this out, the parents did nothing. I guess if your kid is the best one on the team, your shit don't stink. So, naturally, we told our kid to pound his ass back. Not to advocate violence but if the parents aren't responsive, then guess what? My kid is gonna defend himself. Ironically, he did and that kid doesn't bother him anymore. In an unfortunate turn of events, my kid also punched someone, giving up a penalty kick in the last game. Soon, this will be a distant memory.

Status. Wow, who knew that kids playing in a city run soccer league could bring about so much status? Soccer moms issuing challenges to "see who wins on the field" is something I have no time for. This ain't world cup, it's the Under 5 recreation league run by the city. There's no need to show up in your Spain or Manchester United jersey and start bragging to me about your kid's participation in this league. I don't give one shit, let alone two about you, your kid or the fact that you are a soccer family. You ain't Victoria and your hubby sure ain't no Becks, woman!

Forbidden Celebrations. Ummmmm, we played a team that was struggling to score goals. It was probably the half when they scored their first goal (wait, second goal cause we scored their first goal FOR them) and naturally, in true 4 year old fashion, the boys were excited. No joke, the coach started yelling at them to "stop celebrating and get back down the field!" What. The. Fuck. Are you kidding me?

You Tube. We had a grandparent suggest that we You Tube another coach because he was ballistic and crazy. Unbelievable.

Pressure. I witnessed a father snatch a little boy's snack away from him after the game, berating him for not deserving a snack because he played awful. Told the kid he was going to play two hours of soccer later with him in the sun that afternoon. It was already 102 degrees out. When I remarked that he was crazy he asked me how else his kid was going to learn? Ummm, your kid scored like 7 goals and played almost the entire game, what the hell else was he supposed to do exactly?

When I signed up for this gig, I had it in my mind that this was to be about skill development and fun play for kids. It hasn't turned out to be that at all and to say I'm disappointed, is an understatement. There are no goalies and they don't keep score at this age for a reason, right? I find myself trying to swallow this and realize that I shouldn't have to say anything past, "THEY ARE ONLY FOUR."

And believe me when I say that I was not entertaining T-ball. But now my kid has taken to it like a fly on shit. Can literally hit baseballs for over an hour at a time. Thank God he ain't making the age cut off for another whole year. What a blessing.