i love everything about baby soccer. the babies, so cute in their jerseys, and shin guards and special shoes, are running up and down and off the field, looking for parents, saying hi to siblings and relatives who come to watch, stopping to pet a dog, following a shiny object, laying on the field crying, shrieking occasionally, taking water breaks from the exhaustion of standing on a line, asking to go to the playground just over the fence, running for sudden bathroom breaks – the fun is endless. coach does his best, just trying to harness everyone into one area and make sure they have a shirt on. he is patient and kind and cares about his budding athletes.
here, my grandbaby b scores a goal, and then the reactions come. she stares at it wondering what is going on, and other players respond accordingly; check for a boo-boo on a leg, hang on parents, turn their backs, stand and look down the field, and one even run towards her, after the fact. it is truly a sport unto it’s own. there is no ego, no celebration dance, just pure wonder.