Are you Cyrious?: U8 Soccer: Blood, Sweat, Tears, Glory

Two weeks ago Tristan and Ava had the privilege of playing soccer in the under 8 category in the Southern Alberta Summer Games which were held in our home city. I had two “games” experiences myself - one as a dancer in the Opening Ceremonies of the Northern BC Winter Games and one as an athlete, (I skied) in the BC Winter Games. Oh wait, I also have a vague memory of doing something with ribbons and glow sticks in the Yukon Winter Games when I was in Grade 4. Which makes me think of Cherry Pie. Not sure why... Anyway, I was super excited that my kids were getting to have their own Games experience.

Day One they played two games. Both games their team got absolutely smoked. Like 8-0 smoked in the first game and some other high number - 0 in the second. When the first team ran onto the field in their proper jerseys I looked at our little peeps in their matching t-shirts and thought, “uh-oh.” At the beginning of the second game the ref said our goalie had to wear a different colour shirt than the rest of the team. No one had anything extra so Sebastian sacrificed his size 3 shirt to a very slight seven year old girl. It was obvious the other teams had practiced quite a bit more than our once but each half saw our team play better and better. It was so much fun watching the team come together and improve so dramatically each game. I cheered till my throat hurt.

That evening was a community bbq and the Opening Ceremonies. Tristan and Ava marched in the parade of athletes and Tristan got to carry the Redcliff/Cypress County sign. (Which I realize is not technically we live, long story.)

On the way home after all the speeches and a couple of Bollywood numbers I asked the kids what they thought of being part of it all. “Oh, Mom!” Ava said, “I felt so proud!”

Day 2 of soccer began with a warm up at 7:45am. Their team lost again that morning 1-0, the goal coming late in the second half. It was such an exciting game to watch and though it was a bit of a heartbreaker for us parents the kids were thrilled that the game had been so close.

On their second and final game on Day two our team scored a goal. All the parents on the sidelines went nuts. I was literally jumping up and down cheering. And I was not alone. Three goals later I said to one of the other moms jumping beside me, “The other team probably thinks we are so obnoxious!” But they didn’t know the journey our kids had gone through in the tournament. These kids never got down that they were losing, they didn't get upset they hadn't scored a single goal in three games, and they never gave up - even if they were down 4-0 in the first half. They played as hard in the last five minutes of a game when they were were losing by eight goals as they did in the first five minutes when anything was still possible. (Canucks? Are you paying attention?) It was not the goals that made me jump up and down on the sidelines - it was the indomitable spirit of these six- and seven-year-olds who played with such determination and perseverance and joy no matter what the numbers were - and then saw it pay off.

At half-time of that game Ava came to me with a tomato-red face and said, “Mom, I don’t feel very good.” Did I mention that the kids were playing in 38 degrees weather both days? I doused her head and face in water and pumped her full of a combo of water, gatorade and orange slices but she was still falling apart as the second half began. The rule for co-ed soccer is that every team needs to have at least two girls on the field at all times. Our team only had three girls and, as I said, it was 38 degrees. Ava had no choice. She had to play. The coach let her sit out the first shift while I talked to her about how sometimes when we think we can’t do something if we try really hard we find out we can. And also she didn’t have to really run she just had to be on the field.

Ava was still teary when the coach called for subs but he gave her a little pep talk and managed to get a slightly-more-than-half-hearted high five from her. I and the other parents were cheering her on as she took to the field but I was biting my nails on the inside hoping she wasn’t going to run off the field crying. Was I in for a surprise. She didn’t just stand around on the field being the token girl. She didn’t even play half-heartedly. She ran her heart out, got right into every play and in fact, played the best soccer she had played all tournament. She ended up playing the rest of the half and when the final whistle blew she ran off the field, threw her arms around my waist and shouted, “I did it! I did it, Mom! I dug deep and I did it!”