Fog coated our city, we knew the heat couldn't last. Out to the Presidio we went, and I watched as my 17-year-old coached his third game this fall. His 12 and 13 year old girls played their hearts out, implementing his game plan to perfection.
His little sister played her part very well.
By halftime, they had the lead, and he explained to them how they should play the second half to keep it.
They listened. And they won 2-0.
Victors! Big brother coach and little sister player.
Then he and I headed south to Hayward, for his game in one of the State Cup matches with his club team, the Seals.
He played very well but in a losing effort, 0-3.
That's how it goes in sports. You win one. You lose one. One minute you are up top and smiling; the next you are down and out.
Think about it. Sports are probably the best metaphor for life. I only wish I had been healthy enough as a kid to have competed myself, because if so, everything subsequently might have turned out differently.
As I drove him home after his club team's loss, the winning coach still felt good about his day. Very good, actually.
That you win some and lose some is something he knows.
But I don't.
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1 comment:
Bravo on your son learning so young in life about winning and losing- and going on in victory no matter which way the game turns out!!
You have lovely kids!
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