This city is absolutely electric, as the San Francisco Giants host the opening game of the World Series against the Detroit Tigers tonight. Thus my favorite team as an adult faces my favorite team from my childhood.
As if that were not enough excitement, tomorrow my son's high school soccer team enters the city playoffs for the third time in four years. I never thought this could happen, because their season got off to a horrible start.
They lost their first three games, and under a new format, that meant they were in last place with a quarter of their season over!
Plus their head coach resigned and didn't even tell the kids goodbye.
The math sucked. In previous years, there were 16 regular season games. This year, there were just 12.
To make matters worse, they did not appear to have enough talent to compete against the best teams in the city. In those three games they were outscored 3-12.
Then something happened.
I was in New York when it happened. Aidan was in a horrific head-to-head collision with a player from the other team in the one game I had to miss this season.
Both boys lay on the field, bleeding from gashes in their foreheads. Fortunately, the injuries turned out to not be serious, simply requiring stitches, but somehow on that night, Balboa's season started turning around.
They won that game and then tied the next one, a game they should have won, while Aidan had to sit on the sideline to let his stitches heal and not take any headers that might reopen the wound or cause related concerns about head injuries.
So at this point they were 1-3-1 with 7 games left, still way down in the standings and with little hope of making the playoffs.
After that game they became virtually unbeatable and who can say why? They were 6-1. Over the last nine games cumulatively, they outscored their opponents, 35-10. That amounts to an average game score of 4-1, which in soccer is a blowout.
By late last week, we knew they would make the playoffs, but yesterday they sealed the deal.
Late in the game, the head coach asked Aidan if he felt good enough to go back in for the final minutes. (He'd come out to nurse and ice a knee injury he suffered when an opponent kicked him in the right knee, his kicking leg.)
He said he did and so in he went.
Suddenly, the game plan became clear. Either the coach had indicated to the players on his team, or they knew on their own, but they were all determined to try and set up their senior, and co-captain, to score a goal.
Aidan's had some chances but hadn't scored all season. He plays defense so such chances come rarely.
Now he was playing center forward, which (like it sounds) is the leading offensive position on a soccer team.
Every time Balboa got possession of the ball, the players on the bench started chanting "Aidan! Aidan!"
The crowd of students in the stands picked up on the chant and started calling his name as well.
The crowds at high school soccer games are small, but with 20 or 30 people chanting his name, I'm sure he could hear it out on the pitch.
As a pass reached him in front of the net he scored, and we cheered, but then the referee whistled that a teammate had been offside and indicated the goal didn't count.
We all groaned.
At this point I put away my camera. My hands were shaking too much anyway to get any kind of decent photo, I was so excited to see him playing offense, after 12 years on defense.
A few moments later, he took a pass, executed some pretty nifty moves, eluded the defenders, reached the net, and punched in his goal.
I don't think I have ever heard a bigger cheer at a Balboa game, though maybe it was just the thumping of my heart in my chest.
He smiled a big smile as he returned upfield, high-fiving his teammates, who had made this opportunity happen for him. He'd accomplished their goal for him -- to score a goal in his final regular season game.
I'll cherish this memory.
Tomorrow, the playoffs begin, at 3:30 at Crocker Amazon. From here on it is an elimination game every time. You lose, it's over. You win, you go on.
Stay tuned.
Now, on to the World Series.
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