Every season you ask to be signed up for soccer.
Each time we double check reminding you that
you haven't kicked the ball more than five times
on that field during a game (and only as a starter).
Still, you insist.
No matter what anyone says to you,
this game is not about getting a ball away from
another kid and trying to score a goal.
Somehow, in your mind that is not your job.
But you love to run around the field playing with your team
smiling and supporting them all the way.
Oh, you've asked to quit.
mid-season when you'd rather cuddle with cartoons than
hit the crisp Saturday morning field.
And Daddy has pleaded with me to let you.
But there is no way that this Mom will allow you to
walk away from your commitment to your team.
And so we go. Every week. Rain or shine.
And every season you are a winner to us.
Even if you don't touch the soccer ball.
You live that he who is last shall be first.
And you lead in love deeper than you'll ever fight.
Not just in your games, but in your life.
And that's bigger than being a soccer star, sweetheart.
That's much bigger.