Ain't that a kick in the head?

Guest blogger David here...

This past summer, we asked the kids if they wanted to play soccer and Carmen said "YES!" followed closely by "Are you going to coach me, Daddy??"

How could I say no? Having played for so long (20+ years as an adult) and having goofed around with both Carmen and Gabriel on various soccer fields, I quickly agreed.

We signed up and were assigned to a team (The Seal Team) in our local soccer association's Under-7 Coed League. The coach of the team (Coach Jamie) has no experience whatsoever in soccer and has yet to be seen by any of us without his Boston Red Sox baseball cap on.

We were assigned 7 players (the games are played five on a side, including a goalkeeper) despite the league max being 8. We got an eighth player in time for our last pre-season practice but then lost one of our 8 after the first game, because he wanted to go back to the team that drilled us the first weekend.

So we are having fun with a less-than-skilled team with less than the number of subs everyone else has. As an example, Gabriel joined us for a practice the other day and gave two of our players all they could handle from a soccer standpoint, even though he has never played and is two years younger than they are.

Carmen actually has done very well so far, showing skills that place her among the better players on our team. But our team has not done so well, so it's a good thing this league doesn't keep score officially. (If you ask the players, though, they all can count and know exactly what the score is...)

We worked on training our kids hard with some goalkeeper skills at the start of the season and it paid off somewhat. I think we lead the free world so far in saves, mainly because we can't seem to get the ball to the other end of the field very much.

The first game is a microcosm of our season so far. We scored a goal after giving up three or four, and then Carmen went and played goalkeeper for the second quarter. She made four or five excellent saves, and was all set to make another when she dove at an opposing player's feet to get the ball.

He kicked her in the side of the head, instead of heeding the soccer rule of not touching the goalie if they have the ball in their hands. She laid on the ground and cried while we ran out to check on her. I asked if she wanted to come out and she said, "No, I want to stay in."




"That's my girl," I said, thinking she was brave.

Three minutes later, same kid, coming in again with the ball. (This kid, as it turns out, is one of the best players in the league we've seen so far.) Again, Carmen makes the save in close range by taking the ball off of his feet. Again, he kicked her, this time in the face. Again, she lay there and cried while we tended to her. Again she opted to stay in the goal.





During the game, I was too busy worrying about Carmen's physical and emotional health and the team's play to get mad at the 12-year old girl refereeing our game or the opposing coach, but I really should have appealed for some type of action to protect our players better.

So naturally, after the game I stewed and got mad at myself. Carmen had a little purple spot on her cheek for about a week after that, which of course kept reminding me about it all.

Carmen's still having fun six weeks into the season, and her stated goal is to win one game.

I tell her to stick to having fun, and the wins will come.

david