Into the belly of the beast

Soccer has begun. A couple of weeks ago we got Natalie her first cleats and shin guards and socks. Which she tried to wear to bed. For a while it looked like soccer might have been nothing but an accessorizing opportunity, but maybe she will actually get into the game.

9AM Saturday. Soccer time. Off to the Y we go. Whoops! It's not at the Y, it's at the park, of course. Off to the park we go. But, this being New Jersey, you cannot park at the park. So we park on the street.

Down on the field, swarming. By the sign-up table, even more. She's on team B-10, which is on field 10, as depicted on the schematic drawing. But out on the field, swarming. Which is field 10? Dunno. There's Lauren on field 6. We'll go there.

Ball put in play. Swarming. Run here, run there. There are girls to whom it comes naturally. Natalie is not one of them. When the ball is thrown at her, she shrieks, she quails, she flashes those pearly whites. Afterwards, a play date...

The scene changes. Sunday. Back yard. For years Natalie has resisted entreaties from dad to play soccer. No longer. It's time to play kick the ball in the goal. Three goals means you get a goal. Goals don't count if the goalie touches it before it goes into the goal. And so on. A little enthusiasm.

From his perch in the sandbox, Graham observes...