Pride and Joy

This weekend I had one of those moments. You know…those moments. The ones you daydream about when you’re uncomfortably pregnant and can’t imagine what color eyes and hair your child will have. You think about the big milestones in their lives, where you’ll be and how you’ll react.

I’ve talked before about Lucy’s incredible soccer team, an awesome group of adorable girls who work so very hard. Kansas City is a HUGE soccer town, and most kids start playing when they are three or four. By the time they are Lucy’s age, they are quite competitive, with many joining traveling teams and advanced leagues. Lucy loves soccer because she loves hanging out with her friends, but she has never been all that serious about it. And most of her team is the same way. Several are very skilled, but most of the girls have only played one season if any at all, and they are playing against girls who have been on teams for four years or more! Let’s just say, our sweet girls had a tough season.

But it was so different from last year. A lot of things seemed to click in practice, and by the last few games, the girls really started to play well. However, the elusive goal was always a tiny bit out of their reach. The coaches decided to give them a little more incentive, and promised the girls if the team could score just one goal in our final game, they would treat all of them to ice cream.

Lucy talked about this promised treat all week long. It was an even bigger deal for her, as Lucy has recently been in the throes of testing for a lactose intolerance, so she hadn’t had dairy in over two weeks. She practiced well and drew up plays at the dinner table, planning for her big moment.

About halfway through the first half on this cold game day, Lucy stole the ball near the our team’s goal, and started taking it upfield. She was running faster than I’d ever seen her, dodging defenders and streaking down the field. As she got closer and closer to the opposing team’s goal, all the parents seemed to hold our breaths…we’d had so many shots at the goal, and yet, nothing. I don’t know if anyone really believed this would be the moment. And then she shot. It was right in the corner of the goal, perfect placement.

Our entire side of the sideline errupted in cheers. I started crying and all of the parents were screaming and hugging. I’m sure the other team thought we were nuts, but this was our first goal in two seasons and it was a big freaking deal! I looked up and saw Lucy’s smile from all the way across the field. I’ll never forget it. All the girls on our team ran over, tackling her with hugs and high fives. They worked so hard together, and watching them all be so happy for Lucy, not a jealous or envious face in the bunch, was so beautiful. This team is one incredible group of little ladies, and I felt proud to be standing on the same field with them and their parents.

We didn’t win the game, but I don’t know if any of the girls even noticed. It was such a spectacular day, and watching them laugh and grin as they ate their celebratory ice cream was worth a million freezing cold evening practices in the dark. I’m not sure if this is the last season of Lucy’s soccer career (she’s undecided if she wants to keep playing or concentrate on something else in her spare time), but if it is, I’m so glad she went out on such a high note. It was one of those moments I know she’ll remember forever. After the game I told her I cried when she scored. “Me too, Mom!” she replied. “But don’t worry, they were happy tears.”