Season's End

UPDATE 6.27.11:

Tonight, I am worried about the injury my son suffered to his neck as described below. Yes, he is tough, but today his neck hurts and I fear he may have a whiplash injury. I am seeking advice (from anyone who may read this blog) on how to treat this type of injury. Of course, since this is America, we cannot afford and therefore do not have health insurance.

Watching #16 out there today in Hayward was fun. He's a defender, and anytime his team shuts out their opponent, he can feel good, because his role, as center back, is the last line of defense in front of his keeper.

Sometimes it's about cutting off angles; other times it's about being physical. Whatever needs to be done, he has to do it.

Shutouts, therefore, are special, very special, especially when they are playing against a team with a better record and on their home field.

Of course, soccer is very rough game, but he's grown into a very rugged kid, who can dish it as well as he takes it.

My heart did skip a beat or two today when he was crushed to the ground after successfully stripping the ball from a striker by two opponents who "sandwiched" him.

As I watched him fly through the air and land backwards on the ball, I also saw his head snap backwards to the turf.

A teammate picked up the ball and sent it wide out of harm's way, but he stayed down for a minute. When he finally got up he looked woozy and later he told me he felt dizzy.

But after another minute he was back in the fray, dishing some impressive punishment to the guys who had knocked him down.

The ref saw it all and never whistled. When A tackled one of the guys, cleanly, preventing a goal, the downed player flopped and raised his hands in the familiar "what?" gesture of soccer players everywhere.

The ref shook his head and pointed at A as if to say, "you took him out, he took you out. What's the problem?"

I like it. I like having a tough kid playing a tough sport. And the bottom line? He helped pitch a shutout.

That would be my son. Look into his eyes. Would you really want to challenge a kid like him? Trust me, he's a sweetie pie, just not on the pitch...There he is a holy terror.

But he's only one of my sons, and we are a complicated family.

Another son is my gentle young intellectual, my book lover, who was at the Gay Pride Parade today with his friends, both girls and boys, appreciating one of our great festivals in SF, and I am so impressed by his ability to figure out our confusing bus system here to get back home tonight on his own.

My oldest son, meanwhile, was making his way to his new home in Seattle from Pasadena, to finish his PhD in neuroscience.

Three boys all very different and all equally impressive in their Dad's eyes. In fact, like all Dads I'm sure, I love them just as they are more than any words will ever be able to express, but I suppose they already know that...



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