Farewell, Arrows

This weekend marked the start of soccer season for the Capital Area Soccer League (CASL), the huge youth soccer organization in our area. Scott played on CASL soccer teams from his first year of eligibility, back when he was four or five, until this spring. This fall, he decided to stop playing soccer, both because he wasn't enjoying it as much as in the past and because he wanted as much time as possible to focus on doing well in ninth grade. I respect his decision.

I also gain in some ways from his choice. I don't have to get up early for games on Saturday. I don't have to sit in the heat for a few hours on sweltering Saturday and Sunday afternoons. I neither have to coach nor feel guilty for stopping coaching after doing it for over three years. I also don't have to feel bad about being such a poor coach, because though I thought the world of the boys on the team and I did my best, I just don't know that much about soccer.

All that said, I'll miss it. I'll miss Scott's team of many years, the Arrows. I'll miss seeing him in his number 17 shirt, first with his first name on it and then, as he grew older, with his last. I'll miss the moments when the boys were clicking and their efforts from practice paid off during a game. I'll miss the excitement of watching them stop a goal or score one.

I'll also always remember a great deal from these years of soccer: the boys, the great plays, the silly moments in practices, the time Scott scored a goal from about forty yards out on a penalty kick, and so much else.

I was and am proud of Scott and all the other Arrows for trying hard, week in and week out, and for being first good boys and then good young men.

Most of all, I'll miss watching with so much pride my heart could scarcely contain it as number 17, Scott, my son, who for years was the leader and center of the defense, ran across the field at full speed to confront an attacker, give his all though he could not know the outcome, and play the game as best he could. In soccer or in life, a father can ask no more of a son than that.