Little league soccer season starts for our family this month.
Here’s what’s going to happen.
Cryin’, Lovin’ and Leavin’
There will be that one kid that shows up crying because he hates soccer. He’ll spend 97% of the practice or game making his mom/dad/coach/sister/primary caregiver chase him around the soccer complex. The parents will contemplate either buying a leash or asking for a refund. Maybe both. In one of the greatest sports comebacks of all time, the kid will suddenly fall in love with soccer 30 seconds before it’s time to go home. Repeat crying.
Some kid who coincidentally enough has a first name that sounds really cool without needing a last name will terrorize every practice and game. Headers from midfield, slide tackles and cool dances after goals will be the norm for this “six year old”. Let’s call him Ne’ne. Parents of kids who are just okay at soccer and have names like Trevor and Whitney will be irate. They’ll ask to see a birth certificate.
For over twenty years now we’ve thought communism was dead. It’s not. Whoever is still running things at Communism World Headquarters has given up on tanks and propaganda and has gone with a more subtle approach: teaching kids to play soccer without keeping score.
I’ll do my part to stop this secret spread by telling the impressionable minds on my team that the next score wins the game.
“Do not let the other team score. Take what belongs to you. They want to take food off of your table. This is our freedom we’re playing for. Do it for your family, Billy!”
Too far? After all this is communism we’re talking about here.