Early Saturday morning. Run done, right at the sun was rising, because I couldn't sleep. 4 miles. I dropped JP off at Rose Park so he could get some soccer work in before tryouts on Monday. I'm comfortably ensconced at Barista Parlor Golden Sound. Good coffee and mellow music on the turntable.
Later today, we've got flag football (Joe), baseball double header (Joe), and basketball (JP). I wouldn't have it any other way.
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Last Sunday, Joe woke up with a terrible, hacking cough. It was bad enough that I ran a Covid-19 test on him at home because, today, every cough, sore throat, or cold is Covid-19. That's just the way it is. The test was inconclusive but Jude thought he should skip his travel soccer games in Drake's Creek Park in Hendersonville and go to see the doctor.
"This is travel soccer," I reminded her, laughing. "Not rec league. This is serious business."
Our foray in to the travel soccer world with Joe, well, that's another story entirely. It's one I'll tell, soon, but not this morning. Another time.
The point, of course, was that Joe was playing soccer. As the sports czar of the family, I had the power to make that decision, and I did. Game on. Games on, potentially, because Joe's travel soccer team, Armada, was set to play in the semifinals at 9:15 a.m., then again in the afternoon if they won the first game.
Saturday's games had been laughers. I saw the first game, which the boys won 9-0 against a team from Chattanooga. The boys won the second game, which Jude saw, 6-0.
I had been impressed with Joe's team on Saturday, although the competition was not strong. Our boys are in shape and they should be because Coach Caleb runs them - a lot - at practice. Track work, in addition to running they do on the field at Harding Academy, where they practice on Mondays and Wednesdays. Their skills - passing, in particular, has improved tremendously, too, which is good to see.
Before I go further, let me be perfectly clear about something. I know next to nothing about soccer. I'm not really a soccer fan. I don't enjoy watching soccer, in person or on television. I think it's boring. Very boring. I appreciate the athleticism but it's just not my game. I enjoy watching my boys play soccer because I like watching them compete. I want them to be aggressive and play with confidence, regardless of the sport.
I saw Joe's team warming up and dropped him off as I pulled into Drake's Creek Park, which was a madhouse. Parking was a nightmare, even that early, as there were soccer games preparing to start on what seemed like 25 or 30 different fields. Finally, I found a spot, unpacked my truck, loaded my soccer dad wagon - tent, chairs, cooler, etc. - and made the long walk to the soccer field.
The game was a good one. Entertaining, actually. The other team - from Nolensville - was very physical, which is something that was good for our boys to see and experience. Joe is good with playing physically but some of our boys weren't. Well, they need to be.
Preston was in goal and Joe played center back, which I called fullback, during my two years of playing soccer in mid to late 1970's. I wasn't very good, which should not come as a surprise. Joe plays center back well, because he communicates with his teammates, leads the defense, and his physical and aggressive. Not the greatest foot skills but not afraid to bang into another player fighting for a ball.
In the second half, for example, the boys were down 2-1, and Joe and another player chased a ball down he field toward our goal. It looked it might be a breakaway for Nolensville but Joe and the other player arrived to the ball simultaneously and Joe kicked the ball out of the back of the field as he collided with the other player and they both fell in a heap. It was a hustle play by Joe. An aggressive and physical play, which I loved.
With three or four minutes left in the game, it looked like the boys were going to lose. Truthfully, I was okay with that because it had been a good game and we had two baseball games scheduled later in the day. I was texting Jude just that, looking at my cell phone, when in my peripheral vision, I saw one of our players kick a rebound off a corner kick over the goalie's head for the tying score. As I looked around, confused, everyone started yelling for Joe.
I missed it but Joe had scored the game tying goal. That's Joe.
The game ended in a tie and much to my surprise, it went straight to penalty kicks. Much to my bigger surprise, Coach Caleb pulled Preston and inserted Joe at goalie to defend the penalty kicks. I was told, later, that it was because Joe is a little taller than Preston and has slightly better hands. I thought it was a risky move but, again, I know nothing about soccer.
Either way, it put Joe in a tough, pressure filled spot. But, that's the thing about Joe - he usually thrives in spots like that. The moment is never too big for him and it's not going to crush him if he fails. JP is the sam way.
Joe allowed the first two Nolensville boys to score and didn't look very comfortable in goal, to me, anyway. He dove to his right and stopped the third shooter, though, and our sideline erupted in cheers for him. However, the referee claimed the boy shot before the whistle, which nullified the attempt, so he got to shoot again. Our parents complained, loudly, as the boys lined up to shoot against Joe a second time.
He approached the ball and kicked it hard, high, and slightly to Joe's right. Joe leaped and punched the ball over the crossbar. No goal! He has stopped the same shooter, twice, on a penalty kick. Our sideline erupted as parents high fives each other and yelled Joe's name. It was a moment, for sure.
Joe stopped another kick and after a little back and forth, Rex Waddey hit the game winner for us.
As Joe ran from the goal to join his teammates celebrating in the middle of the field, I ran down our sideline high fiving our parents, my heart filled with joy and, yes, pride.
Joe had himself a day . . . on the soccer field of all things. A day that I'll remember, for sure.
Joe and Preston.
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