Another weekend has passed, and you know what that means. Another exciting soccer game for us, although not so much for the opposing team. Usually our girls are just warming up the first half and don't do that great. Then during the second half they kick into high gear, making goal after goal. If they haven't allowed too many goals during the first half, then we win. Otherwise we run out of time and the other team wins.
I explain all this because during this last game, one of our girls scored a goal in the first quarter. And she had never scored a goal before, ever, in the 2 years that she's been playing. In the second quarter, another girl scored a goal for the first time ever. Her mom cried. For the first time during halftime, we were not behind. What a great feeling.
At the beginning of the third quarter, we got 3 more goals. The other team made a few good attempts but luckily, or unluckily as it turned out, our best goalie was defending. At this point (5-0), our coach knew that we were going to win and didn't want to score anymore, so he sent my daughter, who usually plays defense because she dislikes too much running, to the offense. In fact, he held back all our good runners and told them they could not cross the midline.
It was just my daughter and another defense girl playing offense. They took the ball close to the goal, my daughter kicked it, and IT WENT IN! She was thrilled and so was I. It was her first official goal! She had sort of resigned herself to never making a goal, because she always chooses defense. I was especially happy because the first thing she did afterward was run over to me for a big hug. Our poor coach was torn. He was happy for my daughter but felt bad for the other team.
Because the majority of our team was in defense, the other team had a hard time scoring. It was hard to rein in our girls (they just see the ball and GO), so we scored a couple more times. Finally, our coach had to take out players, but it was too late. The final score was 9-0. I hope the other team just had a bad day, that they're usually better.
My daughter stayed excited for the rest of the day. On the way home, she asked me not tell her dad, who had to stay behind while the babies slept in. She wanted to surprise him and relive the excitement with him. She also told me that she's considering playing offense now.
Of course we adults now look dubiously on their goals, thinking these first-time goals aren't really that special considering what they were up against. The girls, however, haven't stopped reveling in their own accomplishments. I can't help but think it is better to be a kid sometimes.