Growing up in Canton, Michigan you had no choice but to be deeply invested in soccer. One summer Canton even hosted the world cup for little kids. The streets were filled with obnoxious kids and even more obnoxious parents.
I can vividly remember being at Flodin park and watching lil kids playing like their lives depended on it. Sometimes, based on their parents screaming, their lives may very well have been in jeopardy. The parents would scream at the coaches and grown adults would break out in fist fights. It was hilariously entertaining. But, also very intriguing. I was mesmerized by this game and the passion behind it. This was the first game i was told by a coach that i had skills. It was at these moments I knew one day my kids would be groomed for futbol.
I couldn't wait for the day to pile up my kids in a van and head to the soccer fields. I would wear a cozy sweater and have a sophisticated mug o Joe. I may even have a soccer blanket and cups of cocoa for my other lil darlings. My husband would be coaching our kid and holding my hand. It would be a blue sky, nothing but blue skies, kind of day. Birds would chirp and fellow soccer moms would holler greetings as my crew headed to the game. The air would smell of dirty boys and wet grass.
20 years and 5 kids later that dream is fully realized. Shawn is my current soccer stud. Watching him running on that field with shin guards and dreams of a soccer championship, deftly dribbling his ball and meeting his teammates. I can almost hear David Beckham offering him a spot on his pro soccer team. Christiano Ronaldo giving him a pair of purple and pink soccer cleats. Real Madrid scouting his eager youth, trying to figure out how to get him to sign.
These are my Canton Soccer Mom fantasies. Don't judge. I quickly drain my gas station cup o Joe and tighten up my sweater against the nippy fall air. Adjust my kiddies blanket and say hello to my other soccer comrades. I watch intently on every call the ref makes, ready to pounce if needed. I lean against my husband who is loudly sideline coaching our son and sigh with pleasure. As I look over the soccer field waiting for shawns second round of games i am overcome. I realize that 20 years ago there was a 13 year old girl who dreamed of being a soccer mom. I am everything I wanted to be with a shaggin wagon (minivan) to boot. 20 years later I can proudly check off the box and know my dreams came true.