Bend it like Beckham

An EPIC Sunday Amen

Fuji-X pro - shot through the trampoline

Happy Sunday Amen :)

I woke up early Saturday to attend my grandson’s soccer match. He’s seven years old. They are on the cusp of forming familiar-faced teams, where they spread out and begin to understand the game. For now, up until about eight or nine, games are mostly made up of team piles traveling along the field at a turtle sweet speed with the occasional breakout. It’s usually one or two kids with wheels for feet and full control of the ball right up to the net.

SCORE!! Score more! opposing team coach yelling “do it again and again and AGAIN,” patting his kid on the back. “GET ‘EM!!” parents are screaming.

Our team parents: “Hey that kid is good!”— (and yet another!) SCORE!!! they clap in support, clapping the hands of the little ones in their laps!

Our team parents: “Wait, maybe his coach could put that kid on defense for a minute!! They’re sevennnnn!!”

Hummmm. They’re just kids this nana is thinking. It’s the game. But yeah, it’s leaning into bad sportsmanship at this point. I remember it well from all the years when my oldest played. It’s kinda normal to pull back. Ethical. So the score isn’t a complete soul crusher.

Phone video ready, I could sense my grandson’s imagination as he paced back and forth in his usual defense position. Was he thinking about a breakout? or all the years jumping on the trampoline with bouncy balls doing tricks? For the first time watching him play soccer, he was in deep thought, mouth twisted to one side, eyes scrunched, staring ahead, as if he was aiming for something. He’s extremely artistic, but this time it felt like his mind was on the field and not what he was going to build or draw next.

Suddenly, his position from defense was switched to mid-field.

My iphone, now sleeping on my lap due to it’s inability to pick one kid out of a pile, where’s the pro camera when you need one, went into slow motion. Out of nowhere, in the middle of a pile (did I say pile?), in the middle of the field, facing the opposing team’s goal, my grandson jumps upward midair with the ball. In a feat known to the likes of Beckham, or at least in my imagination, the ball sailed over the heads of the opposing pile team, as parents held their breath in what felt like 30 long seconds of soul lifting amazement, landing smack-dab in the center of the goal.

“GOOOOOOOOOOOOAL,” as we exhaled with a gust. The northeast side of the field was dancing in jubilation, chairs and siblings falling over, colliding high fives from David Asher as he ran, hands outstretched, toward his adoring fans!

After a few more go arounds the game was over. My grandson’s team did their customary run through the fan tunnels, shaped by our a-frame hands, and towards the donuts and juice.

Score: 1-to-bazillion. Tired, I could sense they felt a little defeated — but you know kids. I watched as my grandson was inwardly celebrating yet outwardly feeling like maybe it was nothing? Parents busy moving stuff for the next crowd, “good job, great game! your goal was awesome, the trash is over there.”

I had to wonder though. Do we carry a part of those voices with us throughout the days, somewhere back in our conscious? We all do — depending on the day. Are we preoccupied with the game or are we taking it all in. The more, more, more!! Grownups beating down on us from the sidelines. The pressure to perform. The voices saying we’re out to kick your butt. Calm it down. I am. more — Quieten the noise.

As we were walking out to our cars, I thought to myself, I’m gonna tell him how I feel.

“Hey Asher.” “yeah,” he said. “Come ‘ere,” arm around him. “You know what?” “what Nana?” as he blew air in and out of the straw of his soft juice pouch. “Do you know that even though your team didn’t win today, the most talked about part of the game will be your goal?” His face lights up. “Do you know who David Beckham is?” “yeah Nana.” “Do you know that even when his team loses the game that the most talked about part of the whole game are his goals? (he’s listening)

“Do you know why?”

He’s got the best smile on his face.

“It’s because his goals are EPIC.”

“Your goal was EPIC buddy. It was the best part of the whole game.”

“Thank you Nana.”

Amen.

Managed to point the iPhone upward :) I can vividly remember our oldest son picking his nose with one hand, while pointing with the other toward the small aircraft flying from the non-commercial airport, while “playing” soccer :)

Next week we’ll be celebrating our 40th wedding anniversary by packing up our essentials and crazy dogs into the 2006 Econoline-breaking-bad-van-down-by-the-river, where we will glamp for a week. It has actually landed on Easter Sunday this year and I can’t think of a better day. We are a constant resurrection. Aren’t we all?

Matthew 19:26