Life (as taught by soccer)

The weather was perfect -- slightly overcast, moderate temperature, slight breeze. Home field advantage, playing the only undefeated team in the division. Anticipation was in the air, nervous energy fueling pre-game drills. The game whistle blew, and Coach sent everyone to their starting positions... only instead of defender as usual, my daughter was placed in the goalie box.

Don't get me wrong, she loves playing goalie. But since she joined this team, she's only played in the goal a handful of times. Today? She was there the whole game.

The first half was scoreless. She made a couple of saves that were nothing short of spectacular, and went off the field elated at halftime.

The second half was a fearsome battle for the ball, neither team really getting to shoot much at all. Except for that one time when the other team got a fortuitous bounce and capitalized on it... directly in front of our goal. She dove, and even got a finger on the ball; but it had been effectively drilled, and the tip of her finger was no match for it. Moments later the game whistle blew for the final time, and it was over.

We lost, 1 to nothing. My daughter felt responsible. As she shuffled to the car following the post-game coach's talk, several of the parents from our team went out of their way to tell her she'd done well. I was grateful to them. Though I could say the same words, they wouldn't have the same effect as hearing them from someone else. The mom of the other goalie on our team even told my daughter, "Honey, by the time it gets to you, that ball has already gotten past 10 of your teammates." I could have kissed that mom for saying it.

She's still sad. It was a disappointing loss afterall. But I think she'll recover more quickly, more fully, because of the kindness shown. Perhaps that's the real life lesson to be learned from youth sports.