Some teams just don’t have it; they suffer their greatest loss before the season begins. Others never win a game but end the season undefeated. My daughter plays for such a team. Perhaps you’ve heard of them, The Lower Sloughton Savings and Loan Mini-Mites, proud defenders of the league’s Most Consistent Performance title. They play a game much like soccer, on a soccer field with a soccer ball wearing soccer uniforms, but instead of stifling their creativity with “positions” or “defense,” they gleefully swarm the ball wherever it goes and, following a score, equally gleefully disentangle one another from the net of their own goal. Except for fans of the sport, they are a joy to behold. To watch the Mini-Mites, one might think they had never learned the fundamentals of the game, but as their coach I can tell you we practice often and hard, though it’s possible we disagree about what’s fundamental. I came to my position by default, as you may have gathered, the only parent of any player willing to suffer the criticisms of all the other parents. We are the very model of a different sort of team. We vote, for instance, before every game, whether to defend our goal or use it as an additional target. Though they are mostly ten years old, and girls, I call my players men. The captain tells me what she and the men have decided. We substitute on the basis of who has to potty. No team we face is as good as my men at keep-away, accidental collisions, and playing dead, and no team hugs, hugs everybody, like my men do when time runs out. On the way home from almost every game my daughter asks me, “Did we win, Dad?” I love that question.
Copyright © January 08, 2009 David Hodges
8 comments
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January 8, 2009 at 8:09 pm
nickjkirincic
“They play a game much like soccer, on a soccer field with a soccer ball wearing soccer uniforms, but instead of stifling their creativity with “positions” or “defense,” they gleefully swarm the ball wherever it goes and, following a score, equally gleefully disentangle one another from the net of their own goal.”
I’ve watched it happen in so many parks, and the description really made me laugh. A wonderful ending as well.
Thanks, Nick! Reading it back just now, it made me laugh too. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Welcome to Very Short Novels!
–David
January 10, 2009 at 3:05 pm
Jill
You’d never know she wasn’t yours. Last line sums it perfectly; wish it were always that way…
Thanks, Jill. I like the idea of keeping score, but not for how many times the ball goes in the net.
–David
January 10, 2009 at 10:11 pm
grantman
..you captured the feeling all fathers have that are secure enough in themselves to enjoy their kids’ own battles without making them their own.. I coached my sons T-ball team a long time ago and this one brought back many happy memories..
grantman
Thanks, grantman. To me, there’s nothing more fun than watching children play while they still think of the rules as recommendations.
–David
January 14, 2009 at 8:55 am
Hoda
Your words took me back years. I can still remember my son, who was 6 years old then, stopping the game because his friend on the opposing team fell down. He went and helped him up, and gave him the ball. Fabulous work, David.
Thank you, Hoda. That’s lovely. Your son would be welcome on my daughter’s team, if she existed.
–David
January 16, 2009 at 7:26 am
petesmama
This speaks to me on two levels. One: my son is three and we are going to tackle school this year. I worry about what he’ll learn – I mean really learn – when he is there. If he could be on a team like the Mini-mites, it would be one of the many things I want for him.
On a personal level, this says to me that some things need to be taken a little less seriously. And others matter more – like substituting on the basis of who has to potty. This was heartwarming and wonderful, David.
There are very few openings on the Mini-Mites team and a long waiting list but if you were his trainer, petesmama, I’m sure he has all the necessary qualifications. Thank you.
–David
January 19, 2009 at 11:55 am
rachelbirds
That’s my kind of team —
one that takes a dadaist
approach to the game.
Rachel
Thanks for the haiku—
a team that’s coached by Dada
must be dadaist.
–David
Readers wanting more of your haiku will click your name in the sidebar to follow you back to rachelbirds.
February 2, 2009 at 12:45 pm
Wizzer
Yes, I know that team too. Watched them many a time. I also have a wife who watches my games (aka talking with other spectators) with the same enthusiasm – “did you win? did you score”
Love it
That’s hilarious. What do you tell her? Thanks, Wizzer.
–David
February 16, 2009 at 12:03 pm
Cara Donahue
I really like this one. You have a way of making life principles and emotion palpable and contagious.
Wow. I hope you’re right. That’s more than I ever hoped to accomplish.
–David