Soccer "Practice"

I use the term "practice" very loosely as this weeks "practice" was anything but. The group of 65 dropped to 35 as many parents wisely opted to skip the team "pitchers" (aka pictures for the non-New Englanders).

We arrived 15 minutes early as instructed, and walked over to the field where the pictures were being taken. Evidently, the other parents are more skilled at filling out photo order forms than I, as we quickly went from being the first people there to being somewhere between 15 and 20 in line. The thought of playing cards with Mikie's mug and stats on it was too much for me to pass up (which caused much of the delay). The problem, I didn't know what position he plays. Actually, I know that none of the kids play a "position" yet, so I was trying to think of something just to put on the card. However, Mike and I have never watched soccer, so we couldn't even come up with something. And, when asked who his favorite player was, Mikie answered as I predicted with "Tom Brady". While not sport appropriate, I couldn't resist listing it because it epitomizes Mikie.

We got through the individual photos and then had the challenging task of trying to keep our child entertained and clean until they were ready to take the team photo. Being that the photos were being taken on a baseball field, there was an insane amount of dirt to keep Mikie away from. Sadly, grass stains were our downfall, as Mikie frequently tripped over his own two feet while trying to steal the soccer ball back from Mike. Eventually, it was time to corral all the kids onto the bleachers for team pictures. Oh if it were that easy. There needed to be equal numbers of children in each row. And, they started in the front row and worked their way up, which meant kids were moving out of their positions as other kids filed in behind them. Mikie was none to pleased about standing in line waiting to be told where to sit. I think it took about 15 minutes to get everyone in the right place. Then the coaches and their kids had to be arranged (because, it would be tragic if a child wasn't sitting with his coaching dad). Lacking the stamina or interest of all the other soccer moms, I skipped out on standing and observing the chaos in favor of lounging in the damp grass.

By some small miracle, everyone was in position and the team photo was taken. Multiple times. I wish that I had the video camera turned on, because all the kids screamed "CHEEEEEEESSSSEEE" for at least five minutes. And, it wasn't "CHEESE. CHEESE. CHEESE." It was one word dragged on in unison for five full minutes. I think they could have gone for a Guinness Record if anyone thought about it. After the torture, I mean, fun, of the team photo, the Coach thought it wise to end "practice" early and let everyone go home. And, again, by some miracle, all of the kids managed to make their way off the bleachers without injury.

On the plus side, when he starts playing hockey, it should be a less involved photo session (being that I doubt there will be one team of 65 kids). At least, for Mike and my sake, I hope it is.

Love, The Trahans