Law Mommy fails as Soccer Mommy

Gabriel had his first soccer game with the local "recreational league" soccer program on Saturday.

I had not attended his practices on Tuesday or Thursday, as Husband is the assistant coach of his team, and, really, what help could I possibly have been?

Let me preface this by saying, I am not much of a sports fan. I attend one Detroit Pistons game a year when my aunt gets "club tickets" - this means I get to go and eat fancy food and drink good beer and watch the Pistons from very nice seats, and at half-time go back to the "club" area and eat three kinds of chocolate desserts, which takes up most of the third quarter, and I have to say I do enjoy that yearly basketball outing, although I spend most of my time scanning the crowd to see if any famous people (aside from the players themselves) are there - like, Kid Rock or Eminem.

And, I will attend a live baseball game on occasion, either at the local Toledo MudHens stadium, or, as I previously posted, at the Tigers Stadium.

But, in terms of actual on-going interest in sports...um...not so much. I like the Winter Olympics...and I like to play tennis, but, not so much watch it.

So, I arrived Saturday morning at the soccer field, and set up my folding chair in some shade by the field, and cracked open my diet Coke, and TRIED to pay attention to the game. This was hard, since, evidently, I was SUPPOSED to put my chair along the actual SIDELINES of the soccer field, which was where all the OTHER parents set up. Thus, giving me an obstructed view of the field. And I kept thinking, WHY are all these other parents sitting right along side of the field when there is this lovely shade just 10 feet away?

I guess this is where I fail as a soccer mommy.

The game started, and I TRIED to pay attention, but, my mind wandered. I began to imagine absurd soap-operatic life stories for the people around me which could have rivaled the Frisco/Felecia story-line on General Hospital in the 80s...that kept me entertained for quite a while, and then I began to talking to another mom who had rolled her 18 month old daughter's stoller over to my shady-spot.

I talked to her for so long, that, when we looked back up at the field, the game was over and neither of us knew who had won.

One of the apparently "veteran" soccer dads for the opposing teams was smugly screaming and yelling "great job" and "way to go Austin" - so, I assumed that Gabe's team had lost. (I also wondered why so many people in the Midwest have named their children after a city in Texas...I don't have an answer for that...)

Gabe came bounding over to me and asking, "did you see me, Mom? Did you see me playing?"

"Yes, Gabe. Of course. You guys did great!"

"We lost, mom. But we tried hard. That's what matters, right?"

I looked over at smug veteran soccer dad, and I turned to my smart, funny, kind child, and I said, "Yep. That's all that matters, Gabe. That you played fair and you tried hard."

And I wondered how long my sweet little boy would believe it.

Failed soccer mother,
LM