Soccer Dad

There won’t be any Norman Rockwell-painting-like photos of my son’s first soccer game. In fact, it was an incident I would like to forget, but probably won't be able to.

His first game was scheduled for Saturday at 1:00--here in Texas, the temperature was forecast to get to over 100 degrees that day, with high humidity and even a pollution warning. I talked to my wife and a friend of ours who has a son on the same team, and we all decided that it was ridiculous to have 6-year olds playing soccer in those harsh weather conditions. I mean, come on! It's supposed to be fun, right? Something just felt unsafe about the whole thing.

Where I started to get into trouble was the point where we (the other kid's dad and I) decided that we would dress the boys in their uniforms and take them to the field. That way, if we were able to dress a team, we could try to force the referee to reschedule the game so we wouldn't have to forfeit.

Now here's the secret--I really don't give a shit about a 6-year-old forfeiting a soccer game. Go ahead, put it on his college transcript if you like. But some parents are, well, psycho about stuff like that. I even made a point of making Ryan understand that he wasn't going to play today, and that we were driving out to talk to the referee.

When we got out to the game fields, we saw half a dozen other teams actually playing in the scorching heat. We immediately went to the referee and his response to our request to reschedule the game was "Well, these kids play out in this heat all summer, they can play a 60-minute soccer game in it."

I went to the coach and told him that Ryan wasn't playing. He was very cool about it and told me, "I completely understand, and I wouldn't want you to let him play if you didn't feel completely comfortable."

Just then, two of the other dads walked up to me, not looking happy. One of them had a soccer ball in his hand and was (probably unconsciously) smacking it violently against the palm of his hand. The other dad asked me "Are you keeping Ryan out of the game?"

"Yes, don't you think it's a little silly to be playing in 100-degree heat?"

"Didn't you know it was 100-degree heat when you came out here and had him put his uniform on?"

"Yes, but we thought that the ref wouldn't allow the game to be played."

The other dad looked at the ground and shook his head, clearly disgusted.

The conversation continued, "Well, do you realize that if Ryan doesn't play, then we won't have any substitutes and all the boys will have to play all 60 minutes. I don't think I like that so much." I have known this man for several months, and I have a great deal of respect for him. I don't think he was trying to put me on the spot, but was just voicing his thoughts aloud.

Great, I thought to myself, now I'm responsible if one of these kids passes out from a heatstroke. In the meantime, these guys are trying to pressure me into doing something which I consider to be unnecessarily risky. And that dude slapping the soccer ball is about to piss me off.

Then the other dad, the guy I rode out with, came up to me. He told me that they had changed the rules for today's game and that they were going to play the game in four quarters, and actually take an additional four water breaks. We have plenty of water on the sidelines and they were going to allow liberal player substitution. Add to that that our coach had brought a portable canopy for shade, and the prospect of Ryan playing seemed a lot less risky. One thing that I really appreciated is that that Dad told me "I wasn't going to change my mind and leave you hanging without talking to you about this, but it seems to me like they are taking this seriously and I'm tempted to say 'okay'."

Now, my dilemma was that I had been so forceful in saying that Ryan was not going to play, first of all to Ryan and secondly to everyone else. And Fran had been pretty adamant that he not play no matter what.

The whistle blew, the game started, and Ryan was on the sideline. To his immense credit, he didn't seem upset that he wasn't playing or even question me about whether or not he could play. It was a hard decision in my mind to undermine that confidence that he has in me that makes him know that I am pretty consistent when I make a decision. Another thing that I had tugging at me was pride that didn't want the dads that confronted me to feel like they had pressured me into saying "yes". This really bugged me, and I would normally be willing to die, tied to a burning stake, than to reverse a decision under such circumstances.

I picked up the phone and dialed Fran. She was understandably irritated, even after I explained the rule changes to accommodate the heat conditions. But she told me she would go with my judgement since I was out there. Something in my mind had Desi Arnaz's voice saying "Lucy, you got some 'splainin to do..." but I guess I would just deal with that when I got home.

I turned to the coach and nodded. He didn't make a big deal out of it, and queued up Ryan to go in and sub for a player when the whistle blew. When he sent Ryan, Ryan ran to me first to make sure it was okay. What a great kid. As a reward, I poured icy cold water all over his head to keep him cool. He never complained the whole game--he just ran out there with a big smile and a newly drenched head every time his number was called.

The effects of the heat were obvious, though. At one point, our best player got turned around and drove the ball down the field right toward our net. Another player's mother made the coach pull him out of the game because he was lethargic and disoriented on the field. We went through gallons of water. The other team didn't even have any shade. The moms from our team went over to them and soaked them down, inviting them to come sit under our canopy (they didn't).

I felt very humbled and sickened at having to eat my words. I must hold too much pride in standing by what I say. I even still felt a little uneasy about letting him play, and still wonder if I made the right decision.

I know some people will think this is no big deal, but it is a big deal to me. I look at everything I do on a day to day basis and feel like I owe it to Ryan to be a respectable person who lives with honor and is always watching out for his best interests at the expense of my own. By that definition, I failed him Saturday.