My 6 Year Old Soccer Playing Grandson Just Kicked My A**!
by POPSIE 1956
Two of my grandsons, 11 year old Chris, and 6 year old Zach, like playing sports, although between them, and this is nothing against Chris, Zach is clearly the jock of the family.
Both started out in Tee Ball, actually Wee Ball, but neither of them got too excited, they just weren’t into sitting and waiting for their turn at the plate, and being on the field while the other team was at bat bored them, but at least they tried.
Basketball, on the other hand, is something they both really enjoy, Zach in particular. I know he’s my grandson and all, but I think he’s quite athletically gifted, or as I like to say, he’s my retirement fund;
Well, maybe that’s taking things a little TOO seriously..
THAT’S more like it..
OK, back to soccer. This season, in addition to going to both games on Saturday afternoons, I take each boy to their practice sessions, Zach on Wednesday night, Chris on Thursday. I love the bonding with the kids, and I think they enjoy the fact that Popsie is there to support and root them on.
As of this writing, we’re in the last week of soccer for the year. Zach’s coach decided, as a treat (if that’s the proper word), that for the last practice, Zach and his team will scrimmage against his coaches, along with any parents/guardians, and in one special case, grandparents on the field that night.
Please consider I’m a very short way away from turning 59, and…physically fit I’m not (Remember, “husky” is the word I’ve used since childhood), and my athletic skills are…well..non existent.
But, because I want to do something special with Zach, I throw caution (and common sense) to the wind and volunteer to be a part of the adult team.
In truth, I could have been the FATHER of any of my adult team mates!
We all agreed (well most of us did, I think a couple of guys were of the jock hot dog type) that the kids HAD to win…
We didn’t think it would be a 9-3 blowout in favor of the first graders.
Let me pause for a moment; I have a fantastic relationship with Chris and Zach, and I’m their target for jokes and insults.
Someone has to train them after all.
Zach gets a kick out of calling me “Old Man.”
Most people will say “Oh that’s terrible,” get over it, he’s 6, and if it makes him laugh, I really don’t care.
All things considered, I did pretty good during the scrimmage, I had more than my share of times going for the ball, making sure I would kick THAT and not a small child.
All of the kids are REALLY into this, especially Zach, and he’s gunning for me.
At one point, he’s dribbling down the field, and I’m standing directly in front of him, I’m the only one between him and the goal.
I stand firm, stare him in the eye, and point my finger at him, shaking my head Hulk Hogan style as if to say “No way pal.”
Zach looks right at me and says “Don’t even think about it…OLD MAN!”
And he slips right by me and makes a goal.
(Yeah, I could have easily taken the ball from him, but it’s their game.)
He high fives his team mates, then runs up to me saying “I just smoked your butt…OLD MAN!”
Again, he’s 6.
I couldn’t be more prouder.
And despite my age etc, how I felt after the game was much better than expected.