Goaalllllllllllllllllll!

We had soccer on Saturday morning. It was a pretty hot day, already. But we went out there anyway and ran around in the sun. I led various soccer drills; passing, shooting, scoring. Standard stuff, but everybody seemed to get it a little more than usual. Well not everyone, but most everyone. Solid kicks. Goals.

We did Red Light Green Light, and they all ran hard, kicking the ball like they were part of something. We did Follow the Leader, and they all followed me.

And then came the game.

I'd basically not given up on Jack scoring, exactly, but I no longer expected it. He was game; he ran around and went after the ball, and kicked it when he had a chance, but safe to say it wasn't his reason for being or anything.

But late in the game, it happened. Couple of our better players were off to the left of the goal, maybe 15 feet away, battling for the ball with a couple of their players. Jack was in the vicinity, sort of in front of the goal, 10 feet away. And then the ball either was passed or kicked out of the scrum, right toward him, and as it came near him he wound up - left-footed! - and booted it, hard. The ball was a dart. His aim was true. I saw the back of the net stretch out. Goal!

There was much celebration. I ran over, which fortunately I could do being the coach and all, and clapped him on the shoulders, patted his head, congratulated him. Did the same for the kids who may or may not have intentionally passed it to him. Congratulated Jack again. He was kind of a stunned happy, I think. I did a theatrical fist-pump toward Emily. A low-key Steve Martin in Parenthood type of celebration.

Afterward, congratulating Jack again, he seemed ready to move on. He had a play-date at Teddy's house, after all, where they would spend the next hour or two pretending to be Godzilla.