Thursday, March 17, 2005


may very well be soccer. Every kid, it seems, plays in a local league at some time or another. I am old enough (or lived in the wrong parts of the country as a kid) to have missed the soccer craze as a youth. But now my six-year-old son is on a county rec team. So I guess that makes us soccer parents. To make matters more interesting, the county is desperately short on coaches. Luckily one of our neighbors who played soccer for years stepped into the breach. But he needed an assistant, so there I was, running around a field trying to herd energetic but chaotic six-year-olds in a sport I know little about. Actually quite fun.

And yes, just like George Stephanopolous's description of the Clinton cabinet, they all run after the ball in a giant clump.

You are right about that. I was just talking about it with some friends over break. We were at this restaurant that served orange slices with the food, and we all reminisced about the orange slices someone's parent was supposed to bring to the games and practices every week. Newton Girls Soccer Leauge had an orange slice schedule, I swear. My father and some of my other friends parents all coached, and all of them knew relatively nothing about soccer. Which may explain why I never got the ball.
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