(anyone read the David Shannon book about the boy who becomes a pirate? You’re the only one who understands the title of this post.)
It was soccer, soccer, soccer last week. Griffin went to British Soccer Camp for his third year in a row. Loved it. He went every day from 8:30-11:30. Here he is with his coach for the week. Because of low sign-ups (I’m guessing), he was playing soccer with high school kids! (and holding his own, I might add.) He wasn’t deterred at all by the fact that he was three feet shorter than everyone else. I think he would just steal the ball and run under their legs. 🙂
Then he had soccer practice with his team on two different afternoons.
Last weekend, his team played in the CHAMPIONSHIP SOCCER GAME for their age group…and WON! Very, very exciting.
So for those of you keeping score at home, that would be a total of 18 hours of soccer time for this little fireball.
And he LOVES it! He wouldn’t be doing all this otherwise.
My husband will be the first to throw the “sports as an analogy for life” routine and tell any listening ear how playing sports teaches great life lessons. Usually, I would roll my eyes. Yawn. But I have to say (duck for the lightning that is sure to strike), this time he is right.
We’ve seen a lot of growing up in Griffin’s heart over the summer. Crossing my fingers, I think he’s going to conquer first grade and come out ahead with fewer red dots on his folder than last year!
My best theoretical explanation is this. He’s been forced to live up to higher expectations, and he’s learned a thing or two about listening, paying attention, following directions, and respecting authority. He’s learned about working with others for a common goal. He’s worked his tail off and pushed himself beyond what he thought he could do.
I’m a proud momma.
On Saturday, he played the best game he has ever played. He ran for forty minutes straight and just kept going. He even scored a goal! His soccer skills have improved exponentially this summer.
And have I mentioned he loves it?
I have to add, though, that I join two other moms on our team in saying that we have officially become the moms we hate. You know the ones. We’re screaming and sweating at every (indoor!) game. I didn’t sit down once during the second half. You wouldn’t think that 6 year old soccer would cause such a reaction, but let me tell ya… It’s pretty exciting. Especially when we – um, they – play really well and win.
Yes, just call me Soccer Mom. I even drive a minivan.