Saturday Heat

Summer keeps coming back around here; if it weren't for worries about global warming, we might enjoy this more than we are, so far.



Still, as humans also tend to live in the moment when we can, this is rather nice. By early evening, all of our windows and doors can be open, we can dress lightly, and whatever sweet smells remain in the trees and bushes in this area drift heavily on the early night air.



Saturdays, still, for a bit, are soccer days. Today, my 13-year-old and his teammates lost their first playoff game, 3-1, to the Maroon Team. Then, they watched when the Green Team beat the Maroons, 1-0. Then, in the third game, our guys whipped the Green Team, 2-0.




So, if you've been able to track all of this, all three teams finished the day with a record of 1-1. Under the rules, the top two teams are determined by goals. So, the final standings are:

Maroon 3-2
Fusion(us) 3-3
Green 1-2




Therefore, our guys are going to the championship game next Saturday, against (of course) the Maroon Team.



You know, if you are easily deluded, this column could easily be interpreted as about kids' sports. But it's worth remembering that along the sidelines are the parents. This one is trying to survive cancer. That one is a widow, because her husband committed suicide. This couple has just fallen part. That one is getting divorced. That guy just lost his job. So did that woman. This guy's wife is having psychological problems. He can never stop worrying. This woman's ex is drinking heavily, and she can never stop worrying.

Maybe one cliche that contains a grain of truth is "there is no free lunch." If you interpret this metaphorically, none of us get out of here alive.

Therefore, as we stand on the sidelines and cheer our children on, maybe what we are really doing is living in our moment, even as it more obviously their moment, that of our precious sons.

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