I didn't mind coaching Curtis' soccer team last season. But since I'm still finding my place at New Job, I decided I'd just be a bystander this go round.
It just didn't work out that way.
"Organization night" (which is always highly disorganized) happens a couple of days before the first game of the season. The kids meet their coach and get their uniforms (the most important part of the entire season), and the parents pass around the treat sign-up sheet.
When we showed up at organization night, we didn't see any coach or any uniforms, just a bunch of parents looking awkwardly at each other. After a few minutes, someone from the rec center came over and said, "Uh, are any of you the coach?"
"Yeah, we had a guy say he'd be the coach, but he's obviously not here. I've tried to call him like a hundred times and he never answers or calls me back. So does anyone else want to be the coach?"
Everyone looks awkwardly at the ground. Since I was the only dad there (not that it takes a dad to be a coach, just ask my own coach/mother), and one of the only folks that spoke English as a first language, I volunteered.
Today was the last game of the season. Curtis had another good year. It was a little harder to score goals with actual goalies (there are no goalies in the Pre-K league), but he still managed to be quite the little Cristiano Ronaldo (just with more army rolling; Curtis spends more time diving and rolling than any kid on the field).
Because it was the last game, I figured we needed some action shots. Traci was working today, so I had to sneak some shots while I was coaching. As I was running down the field with the team, I took. Curtis, the boy who hates pictures, was not amused.
|At this point he turned and said, "Dad, what are you doing?"|
|Every kid loves to be the goalie. Not only do you get to touch the ball with your hands, but you get to wear this cool dress.|
|I finally got a great action shot without Curtis noticing; but I blew it with my fat finger|
|i tried again, but Curtis was not having it|