A Salute to Crazy Soccer Parents

So, I cleaned out the back of my Traverse last week. I put away four coats, two sweatshirts, one pair of mittens, two sets of gloves, two stocking caps and two baseball caps. The high school soccer season has come to an end. Not only will groceries fit in my car, but we'll "have our lives back" as parents like to say, but don't really mean.

What parent would deny the joy of "game night"? Knowing we'll likely be dining on extra salty popcorn and pizza and Tootsie pops. Knowing our kids will be competing their hearts out while insane parents coach from the bleachers. Knowing we'll endure the brutalist of cold not to miss one second of the game in case that almighty goal is scored.

There are basically two types of soccer parents. There's the certified crazy. These people have been told their kids have talent – usually when the kid was six-years-old and consistently score nine goals against a goalie who was smart enough to step aside when the herd approached. But no matter the age, the word talent almost immediately translates to likeliness of college scholarships and thoughts of playing in the MLS. These parents:

1. will ask their child if they have practiced enough if they don't score a hat trick. 
2. will grunt about a missed passed.
3. will tear the referees a new one if their kid falls on the ground, as soccer players often do.
4. will try really hard not to talk about their own kid. Too much.
5. will never, ever really understand offsides.

Most of us fall within this category. (I'm sure there a a few parents ranting, "I understand offsides!" My apologies.) But there is a small sub-set of soccer parents are are just plain cool. They never seem to get angry or upset. They offer only positive encouragement to every player on the team that no one can hear because of their mild demeanor. These are typically the grandparents. 

All kidding aside, there are two things all parents have in common: the love for our kids and a need for connection. We want our kids to perform well, because it will obviously make them happy. But as Doug often says, what Cole will remember most about soccer are the bus trips or the chatter in the huddles or the movie nights with his team. It's a similar notion for the parents. It won't be that one goal or interception. It will be the sharing of the salty popcorn. It will be the cool pics Denise took. It will be the stories of our boys' unbearably, aromatic cleats and lost jerseys. It will be the hugs we shared after a PK shootout.

We all seek camaraderie. I'll miss it. Not as much as I'll miss my son when he graduates next year, but I'll miss every single parent. Crazy or not.

In my Traverse, there still are four blankets, two stadium chairs and two soccer chairs. Summer league has started. Cole has mentioned more than a few times, we don't have to attend. We know we don't have to. But we kinda want to. We crazies need to connect.