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The Writing Mother

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Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Dear Sideline Soccer Coaches...
To the Grampa of the Tall Girl:

Your grand-daughter does not want to play soccer. I feel like a big Nazi making her learn to kick the ball properly. I've tried to make it fun, I've tried encouraging her, I've tried every thing I can think of... she begs to come off the field so she can play 'faeries' or 'let's be birds' on the sidelines. I will continue to try and encourage her because that's why I'm here. You are not helping by barking at her from the bench and telling her to stop goofing around. This is U6, goofing around is fun.

To the Grandma of the Short Girl:

It was 30 degrees celsius out last night at 7 pm. That's very warm, especially for little kids running around and playing soccer. Your grand-daughter is a doll and very energetic. When I tell her to drink water, it is so she doesn't get dehydrated and pass out. I have no evil plot to make her have to pee so that you have to walk the 100 yards to the bathroom. You are not helping when you come over and tell her to stop drinking water. You're also not helping when you completely ignore me while I try to explain the precious fluid balance in the human body. Go back and sit on the bench. And yes... as soon as you got 20 feet away I told both the kids on the sidelines that they should drink some more water.

I love the soccer.
  The Writing Mother
  posted at 8:40 AM
  1 comments



1 Comments:
At 2:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'm a year or two away from my oldest little guy joining in a soccer league. Your hilarious jabs at the folks who are bent on "creating" the next Pele instead of letting kids have fun give me food for thought on how to conduct myself in the near future. Hopefully I can steer clear of being one of those parental ruffians. Until then, I'll just marvel at how my son gets so excited running up to a soccer ball and giving it a boot when just yesterday (or so it seems), he was just learning to walk...

Steve A

 

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