My son started playing travel soccer at 9 years old. He was always good at it from the time he first kicked a ball at 4 years old. I remember watching him run around the field like a chicken with his head cut off, faster than most of the kids and with enough control to actually kick the ball into the goal periodically. My wife and I were excited about travel soccer - the travel, the competitive games, watching our son become a great player. Over the next 7 years, he played on a few different club teams changing once because we moved and another time because he wanted to be on a better team. He had moderate success, even making it to the State Final 4 as a U13. He played virtually every minute of every game and I attended most of them. I was one of those jackass parents who lived and died by how his son did on the pitch. Screamed at the refs, got into arguments with opposing parents, even embarassingly screamed at the other team's players. If my son's team lost, I was in a horrible mood and I'd scream at my son on the long drive home. But as much as an arse as I was, I enjoyed watching my boy play soccer more than doing anything else in my life...period. Like in the story "The 5 People You Meet in Heaven", when I die I hope that my eternity is spent on the sideline of a soccer field watching my son play a game.
At the age of 16, everything changed. He injured his knee in a high school game. He scored a goal on the play, but the keeper had come way out and fouled him hard (earning a red card), tearing his meniscus as we later found out. You just never expect the moments that will change your life forever. This was one of those moments for my son. The meniscus was shredded so he had to have surgery. That is when he first discovered drugs - whether it was the anesthesia cocktail for surgery or the post-surgery pain pills, we'll never know - but it flipped a switch in him. At that time, near the end of his sophomore year in high school, he was an honor student, ranked sixth in his class of about 250 and a star soccer player for his club and high school teams. Six months later, he was out of soccer completely, failing out of high school and addicted to drugs. Two years later, he is facing criminal charges as an adult which may put him behind bars for a long time. I had one time entertained the hope of a soccer scholarship to a small school for him. Now he will not even finish high school and my only hope is that he stays alive and perhaps one day is able to hold down a minimum wage job. What I wouldn't give to go back in time and change so many things. I would cherish every moment of watching him play. I would not miss a single game. I would ignore the refs, the other players, the other parents, and just enjoy watching him run and kick and compete and do what boys were meant to do. Soccer is a beautiful game and there is nothing more beautiful than watching your child play. Who cares if the ref misses an offsides call? Who cares if they don't make every pass picture perfect? Who cares if they whiff on a shot? Who cares if they lose one game or every game? Life is so short and time is so precious. You never know what is around the corner and when it will be the last time you watch your son play. I remember my son's last game. It was a scrimmage against another club team and he scored 3 goals. He had been complaining about stomach pain and feeling sick before and during the game - little did I know he was abusing prescription pills at that time. I knew things with him were changing but I was so naive.
This is not a message about keeping kids away from drugs. It's a message to savor the moment each and every time your kids play and forget about everything else - missed calls, missed passes, missed shots, etc etc. One day, sooner than you think, it will all be over and you'll long for just one more time to watch your kid play a beautiful game.
I have bared my soul here, albeit anonymously, in the hopes that maybe someone out there will rethink their behavior at their kid's next game, will take maybe a few extra minutes to savor the experience, will think twice about yelling at the ref the next time he misses an offsides or calls a throw-in the wrong way and instead of dissecting the game on the ride home will simply say "Wow, I just love to watch you play soccer."
For any of you that might know me, or think you know me and my son, I would ask that you pray for him and for my family. Right now we need all the help we can get.
At the age of 16, everything changed. He injured his knee in a high school game. He scored a goal on the play, but the keeper had come way out and fouled him hard (earning a red card), tearing his meniscus as we later found out. You just never expect the moments that will change your life forever. This was one of those moments for my son. The meniscus was shredded so he had to have surgery. That is when he first discovered drugs - whether it was the anesthesia cocktail for surgery or the post-surgery pain pills, we'll never know - but it flipped a switch in him. At that time, near the end of his sophomore year in high school, he was an honor student, ranked sixth in his class of about 250 and a star soccer player for his club and high school teams. Six months later, he was out of soccer completely, failing out of high school and addicted to drugs. Two years later, he is facing criminal charges as an adult which may put him behind bars for a long time. I had one time entertained the hope of a soccer scholarship to a small school for him. Now he will not even finish high school and my only hope is that he stays alive and perhaps one day is able to hold down a minimum wage job. What I wouldn't give to go back in time and change so many things. I would cherish every moment of watching him play. I would not miss a single game. I would ignore the refs, the other players, the other parents, and just enjoy watching him run and kick and compete and do what boys were meant to do. Soccer is a beautiful game and there is nothing more beautiful than watching your child play. Who cares if the ref misses an offsides call? Who cares if they don't make every pass picture perfect? Who cares if they whiff on a shot? Who cares if they lose one game or every game? Life is so short and time is so precious. You never know what is around the corner and when it will be the last time you watch your son play. I remember my son's last game. It was a scrimmage against another club team and he scored 3 goals. He had been complaining about stomach pain and feeling sick before and during the game - little did I know he was abusing prescription pills at that time. I knew things with him were changing but I was so naive.
This is not a message about keeping kids away from drugs. It's a message to savor the moment each and every time your kids play and forget about everything else - missed calls, missed passes, missed shots, etc etc. One day, sooner than you think, it will all be over and you'll long for just one more time to watch your kid play a beautiful game.
I have bared my soul here, albeit anonymously, in the hopes that maybe someone out there will rethink their behavior at their kid's next game, will take maybe a few extra minutes to savor the experience, will think twice about yelling at the ref the next time he misses an offsides or calls a throw-in the wrong way and instead of dissecting the game on the ride home will simply say "Wow, I just love to watch you play soccer."
For any of you that might know me, or think you know me and my son, I would ask that you pray for him and for my family. Right now we need all the help we can get.
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