So tonight was Bubba's first soccer game. We all piled in the car and headed down to the local soccer fields, at which there were at least 6 different soccer games about to commence all starring 4 to 6 year olds. If someone wanted to watch the chaos theory in action, I can give them directions to these soccer fields! And I'm just talking about all the parents trying to find out which of the six fields our game is on!
Bubba has been pumped all day about his first soccer game. He just got his jersey on Saturday and he's been telling everybody about his first game. We had to rush home from school, throw on our soccer clothes, grab the team snacks because SOMEBODY signed us up for snack duty for the VERY FIRST game. I have no idea what possessed me to do such a thing. As soon as I put my name on the first line I immediately got snack anxiety -- what should I bring? I've never done snacks before. What if the other parents talk about my snacks behind my back (hey, a rhyme!) What if it's too much snack? Not enough? Do I need to bring drinks, too?! So much pressure!
We raced to the field to make it in time for our 6:00 start and Mr. George, the awesome, ever-patient (Saint George!) coach is already there, high fiving all the players as they arrive. And of course, we had to document this momentous occasion. Here's Bubba Beckham in his uniform:
(Awww, look. He closes his eyes in photographs just like his mommy does.) I've mentioned before what a complete sap I am and I have to admit seeing my little man run around in his big boy soccer uniform brought just the teensiest, tinsiest tear to my eye. Sniff!
Mr. George gathered the team for their pre-game peptalk. Everybody put their hands in the center and yelled in their roughest, toughest voices "TEAM ATTACK!"
And that was the peak of Bubba's excitement. Apparently he gets really psyched up BEFORE the game, but after it starts? Eh. Not so much.
What Bubba likes to do is wander. And lift his shirt. AND his shorts (Look! Power Rangers underwear!) AND pick his nose. And beatbox (have I mentioned that Bubba always has a tune running through his head? And sounds coming out of his mouth similar to this?) He will occasionally run after the ball, but only after he hears us yelling from the sidelines "Run, Bubba, run!" (Wait, that sounds kind of familiar!)
And good lord is he slow. When he runs he looks like he's running through molasses. Mr. Daddy and I tried to determine if his natural speed setting is turned to "slowpoke" or if perhaps it was the oversized jersey and oversized soccer shorts that were creating wind resistance and were slowing him down! We settled on "slowpoke" -- after all, his other nickname is Slowpoke MacGillicuddy.
I think Bubba actually likes the IDEA of soccer much more than he likes the actual playing of said soccer. I don't think he ever realized that there would actually be OTHER KIDS out there. All, you know, trying to get the ball from AWAY from him (these 4 to 6 year olds haven't really grasped the concept of an "assist" yet). He doesn't like it AT ALL when someone tries to get the ball from him. And if you think about it, it does go against everything we've been teaching them since they first uttered the word "MINE!" I mean, it's definitely not sharing. Someone just runs up and takes the ball from you. It's no wonder that Bubba's first response is to cry out in indignation "Hey, he took my ball from me!" It's early days yet I know, but I'm not sure that soccer is Bubba's game. Do you think there's a future for a beat-boxing, break-dancing soccer player? I don't think David Beckham has ANYTHING to worry about!
6 years ago