Game Changer

Another soccer post. It consumes our lives....for at least another 45 days anyway, and then basketball will consume our lives. I have no idea how I could possibly write about another weekend of soccer, but here is goes.

Let's start with the good. Keagan's team won first place in the top bracket of this weekend's tournament. This was probably the most competitive tournament we have ever played, so to win first place, I thought, was a really great accomplishment.

Keagan was called a couple of times this weekend for fouling. Every time the whistle blew he threw up his arms, just like a pro, and acted all innocent. Not one ref fell for his trick, but when we saw this picture, Keagan immediately noted, that the ref missed this high kick call. 

Prior to the championship game, I saw my dad wringing his hands together like a Nervous Nelly. Later I saw he had picked up a blade of grass and had it in his mouth chewing on it for dear life. All the while I was hopping up and out of my sideline chair unable to sit and then unable to stand, my nerves totally shot. I get it all honestly.

The coach calls Keagan the "Game Changer." He scored the lone point in the championship game. Oh, so proud.

When I tucked him in bed last night, he said, "Mom, I don't want to go to school tomorrow. All I want to do is play soccer." And all I want to do is watch him play soccer.

On a Quest for the Perfect Rack of Ribs

Another day in Memphis meant another game or two of soccer and another bar-b-que meal. We will start with the good news. We were finalists in this weekend's tournament! Good stuff. If this picture doesn't confirm my suspicions that ten years ago I gave birth to an Amazon, then I don't know what will. By the way, my boy is the big one in the middle. 

What a great weekend of soccer! If we could wear some color other than the 1980's forest green, then I think we would have perfection.

Next, is the strangest event of the weekend. Three years ago these two boys played for the Gators in Georgia. Today Evan plays for a team out of Kentucky, Dustin lives in Mississippi, and we ran into each other on the soccer fields in Tennessee.

I am even happier to report that we found some wonderful bar-b-que for lunch today. There were no tears shed today on our quest for the perfect rack of ribs; just bar-b-que sauce stained smiles.

And just like that our weekend is over. Stay tuned. We are on the road again next weekend.

Home of the Blues

Evan's first social studies test this year was on identifying the states in the southeast region of the United States. When I asked him if he thought he should study them, he said, "Oh, Mom. I know them already. I've played a soccer game in just about all of 'em." Shockingly, he was pretty much right.

This weekend's soccer tournament took us to Memphis. We've been waiting all month to get our mouths on some ribs from the world famous Rendezvous.

We seriously left wondering what the talk was all about. In fact, Evan was so disappointed that he teared up a little. They just weren't as good as Wes's. We told him as much and this pretty much sealed the deal on his long time dream of owning a bar-b-que joint.

Then we headed to Beale Street. We hadn't been there five minutes and Keagan whispered while gripping my hand, "This is really scary, Mom. This will give me nightmares for sure." And it wasn't even dark. Ghetto took on an entirely new meaning after tonight's trip through the inner city.

The short trek up and down the street was very educational. The boys had eye opening experiences with mentally unstable people, street performers, and panhandlers. Wes took it upon himself to teach the boys the meaning of hoochi-mama and the promise that this type of girl will never grace our front porch.

We ended the night in the suburbs eating shakes from Dairy Queen. And for soccer? Well, we go to tomorrow morning's game in first place.

Martin Luther Evan

In second grade Evan championed recycled tire chips on the playground because he hated having his tennis shoes full of sand. In third grade he proposed a third grade kickball tournament because the playground equipment was too crowded. It has only taken two months at the new school, and Evan has found another issue to tackle: He wants the principal to reverse the rule banning football at recess.

On Monday, he was told by one of the fifth grade teachers that he would need to get a petition with at least fifty student signatures supporting the reversed ruling if he was serious about making a change.

Today he got 55 signatures.

Today he was told he needed to write a letter persuading the principal to side with him.

Tonight he wrote the most beautiful letter outlining his "vow" to ensure the boys played with two hand touch.

Tomorrow he presents his letter to the principal.

Just call him Martin Luther Evan or the John Gruden of fifth grade football. Either way, we are super proud of our playground leader. Here's what he wrote:

"If you don't know it yet we have a patition on playing football at recess. We could get hurt, but we've decided if this passes we will play two-hand touch. You might be thinking, Mrs. Haller, "You will probably tackle or push." Once again, we will play two-hand touch. Where we play is right next door to Mrs. Watson's room, so if we do tackle or push, she (or a partner teacher) will see it. If they do onec the following people will tell Evan (me), Nebulan, Marcus, and Davieon. If we don't or something really bad happens you can violate us from football forever. The reason we want to play is football is a very physical sport. By physical I mean a sport that takes energy. All 55 of us have agreed that basketball is getting boring some 55 people just swing the whole 20 mins. of recess, and all of us would rather play football. We have vowed to do just this (with an exception of getting in trouble.) Please approve this.

Sincerely,
E.... T....."

Fly High with the Hawks

Evan told me this weekend he had plans to play football next fall. No big deal, really, he has played flag and even tackle before. So I asked if he had a club or a team in mind, and he told me he would be playing for the middle school. Then I freaked out. MIDDLE SCHOOL?!?! Later he mentioned that he had learned that he could play for the 7/8th grade team if he weighed 120 pounds and I signed a release. Then I really freaked out. I don't care if he is an Amazon; he can't possibly be big enough to play with eighth graders! Those boys have practically reached adulthood. Evan must still be reminded to wear shoes when he goes outside to play.

So I told him we were probably moving next year...In the middle of football season. It just wouldn't be right to start something that you couldn't finish. I lied to him, I reasoned, to keep him safe from those burly fourteen year olds that probably shave and have girlfriends. For a split second, I wished he was that boy type that cried when he got trucked. Just a second and then I lost that thought. It was tangled with memories of last second touchdown runs, and I felt the verge of a slight smile in the corner of my mouth.

Tonight he weighed in at 108 pounds. He doesn't know it, but I am going to do everything in my power to make sure he gains at least twelve pounds so that he is the biggest eleven year old you ever saw playing for the 6th grade team.

Now I'm giddy with excitement! I'm already planning my Hawks spirit wear wardrobe.

Backyard View

The sun + the trees + the soybean plants = perfect backyard view

Did I mention our view outside the back porch? This was what we saw this morning as we headed out the door for school. This beats the snake den backyard any day.

If You're Happy and You Know It....Score a Goal or Nine

Finally! Keagan was so happy to have a turn on the soccer field. His team played two friendlies against the top rated academy in the area and won both of them!

 Eleven goals were scored in the two games; Keagan scored nine of them. He was on fire!

He later told him he didn't think I would fit in with the new parents on the team. When I asked why, he told me no one really likes to cheer on the sidelines. Even when he scores a goal or breaks ankles, everyone sits quietly on the sidelines.

I'm looking to change that this weekend.

Winning Weekend

I saw those looks of pity. I heard the apologies and all of the reasons why I was just about to spend my long holiday weekend the absolute worst way...in the 100 degree temps and on the soccer field.

My co-workers obviously don't know me well

I can't think of a better place to spend a holiday weekend. Unless, of course, we were playing soccer at the beach.

And when you win? Well, that's just icing on the cake! This weekend the boys placed third out of 22 teams.

Next weekend it will finally be Keagan's turn.