When One Goal is Enough

Last night, in what might be the first legitimately brisk night of fall, JP's MBA middle school soccer team ran it's record to 10-0 by defeating USN 1-0 at USN's River Campus in the semifinals of the conference tournament.

Now, I'm not the biggest soccer guy, granted, but last night's game was different.  It was suspenseful, to say the least, as MBA scored early in the first half - Noah, of course - and held on the rest of the game for the win.  It was, by far, the most nervous I have been at a soccer game.  

The drama was heightened, of course, for me because several of the players on USN's team were boys JP has known and gone to school with since kindergarten or in a couple of cases, since the Children's House days.  Honestly, it was a bit emotional for me to see so many of the boys I've known competing against each other - really, really competing - on the soccer pitch.  

Henry, Calhoun, Aiden, and Cecil.  All of them have grown up with JP, from toddlers or little boys to the 13 and 14 year old young men they are now.  As I saw them playing an extremely physical game last night in the cold, under the lights, laying it all on the line, in my mind's eye I simultaneously saw them playing recreational league soccer together at First Presbyterian Church and, later, club soccer for Coach Gordon and FCA.  

The effect, for me, was almost like the picutre-in-picture feature on a television.  Two games going on at once but with the same players at different ages.  The game on the field and the one in my mind. 

The passage of time is such a curious thing.  Time is ethereal, yes, but in some ways, maybe it can be stopped by the memories we carrying in our minds and in our hearts and the stories we tell others based on those memories.  

The game was so intense, by far more so than any soccer game this season.  Very, very physical, too, with several penalties.  Nothing dirty.  Just good, hard, physical play.  The fans of both teams were way into the game, too, yelling about this or that call or non-call.

Joe, Jude, and I sat in camping chairs on the sidelines, bundled up against the cold.  Honestly, it was hard for me to watch late in the game as MBA desperately tried to fend off USN's spirited attack.  USN pulled their defense up the field - like a hockey team pulling its goalie - in the last five or six minutes in an effort to generate some offense.  They got close but could never put the ball in the net and MBA held on for the win.

JP played left back the entire game.  He moved the ball well and, along with Jay "the Eraser" at middle back, played solid defense and prevented USN from having a sustained attack until late in the game.

After the game, as we waited for JP, the three of us marveled at what a great game it had been.  The funniest part was Jude didn't realize MBA had scored early, so she thought the game was tied the entire time and headed for a shootout.  Now, that's suspenseful!

As we stood there, JP and Henry, one of his oldest friends from USN and one of their better soccer players, walked up together.  Arms around each other, I asked to take their picture.  Without any prompting from me and entirely on their own, they exchanged jerseys like professional players do and posed for a photo.  

With tears in my eyes at their spontaneous gesture of sportsmanship, friendship, and love, I took a photo that I will treasure for the rest of my life.  I hope they will, too.