...because I'd have a serious breakdown at all the crazy people that would be bound to say mean things to me in mean ways. I should be posting about Ridge's birthday, actually I should be asleep already, but I couldn't sleep even though I'm tired. My mind was still filled with events of the day and with things I need to do in these next few days and I just couldn't let them go and relax enough to fall asleep. So when Cannon woke up I stayed up and got a few things done and now I'm writing about my soccer experience today and maybe after that is done I'll be able to sleep because the thoughts will have flowed out of my mind, through my fingers and into cyberspace where they can live.
So I coach Ridge's soccer team. I volunteered to do it because no one else was able to. There is another dad who helps out but I'm the supposed head coach. I'm not fabulous at all, not very well organized when it comes to putting kids on and off the field, and I'm not prepping the boys for select teams, but I think they are having fun. The team we played today was very well organized, it looked like 3 coaches (each team has 8 boys) and one of them was very serious about the team. It was quite intimidating to watch their regimental warm-ups, goalie coaching, and the coaches all wore sun glasses and track suits, not matching. We were the home team which means that we supply the ball, goal posts and ref for the game. I only got there 10 minutes early, not impressive to their coach.
The incident that I've been trying to wash out of my brain was this: game is going on, our players are down by their goal, close to scoring. Their goalie went down for the ball and our players still tried to kick the ball though they didn't kick the goalie. Well their coach went crazy, yelling at me from across the field. Finally I yell back, "I'm sorry!" and he kept yelling something so I went to stand by one of the dads on the team who was bigger than he was. I didn't look at him for the rest of the game. And get this, he didn't walk through the line and shake hands at the end of the game, another coach did. He stayed on the sidelines and then when I was picking up the cones and posts afterward I heard this guy complaining to one of the parents. Thus the good thing I'm not famous thing at the beginning. He was a jerk and I know that but I was just shocked that he was yelling at me, like I have been coaching the boys to kick the goalies. The ref probably should have called something but there are no direct kicks and the penalties are so vague and the refs are volunteers who are not trained or paid in refereeing mini-soccer games. We don't even keep official score of the games. There is no off-sides, throw-ins are sometimes not perfect, the goalies step out of their boxes often, these kids are still learning the fundamentals of the game. I haven't covered the rules of "don't crash into the goalie" because it hasn't ever happened before and because this is the first year these boys play with a goalie so we've been giving all of them a chance to learn how to be goalie if they want to, and most of them have wanted to try.
Okay, that's done. BlogWorld, I give thee this post, remove this toxic memory from my brain. No one can make me feel inferior without my consent, it's like water off a duck's back. Dear Comment-Therapist, thanks for reading. And now maybe I'll be able to fall asleep.
ps -- the birthday party was crazy and fun. More tomorrow.