My Son's Soccer Game

Last year at about this time, my son's Rep soccer team, for which I am the Team Manager, played and lost to the Comox Rep soccer team, allowing Comox to advance to play in the Provincial Cup. It was a heartbreaker of a game, which saw our side take an early lead, surrender a goal to tie, and then lose 2-1 in the dying minutes. Throughout this past year, the team has been gearing for the re-match last Sunday. On a cool, February day, our boys defeated the Comox side 2-1.

Since last Sunday's victory, I have been thinking a lot about team sports, and why it is that we play them. I suppose in our culture we are raised to be independent people, and playing on team sports takes our culturally nurtured competitive dispositions to the collective level. In other words, we treat our team as the individual. This means that we are not upset if we are benched in favour of someone on our team who is fresher, and that we share together in the victories and defeats, the highs and lows. To be successful, we must truly trust other human beings, and we must learn and accommodate each other's strengths and weaknesses. But it is more than this. I think it has to do with joy.

Over the past year, I have seen our team deal with the loss of this game. They opened the season in September winning a number of games in a row, some of them to teams a year older. However, over three games, we met Comox twice, and were defeated by them both times. It was as if Comox had become a 'bogeyman', haunting the spirit of our boys' team. Our boys were certainly as skillful and determined, but this just didn't seem to be enough. However, over the last two months, our excellent coaches have encouraged continually and argued persuasively that we can in fact beat this team. We were able to build on the victories against Comox in two indoor soccer tournaments either side of the Christmas break, and throughout 2010, the idea that we could beat Comox began to grow.

In the pre-game warm-up last Sunday, our boys looked determined. Our Head Coach tuned them up before the game as if they were stringed instruments before a recital. She let them know in general terms that they could win, and in specific terms how it could be done. Every boy listened intently, and each knew he was responsible in some way for the outcome.

I recall certain parts of the game very clearly, particularly the build-up to both of our goals, and the lapse in the back line that led to the Comox team's first and only goal about 7 seconds before the ref blew his whistle to end the first half. The scoreless second half was extremely intense. Comox was often able to prevail in the vertical game, wresting from us nearly every high ball with their chest, head, or otherwise. However, our mid-field was collected and ever so skillful, and continually stopped their rush, delivering with precision the ball to our forwards. We substituted one of our players to the back line with the express purpose of marking their speedster forward so as to shut down their through balls to him. Our back line did not allow the Comox forwards entry into our 18 yard box. The final whistle, after 3 minutes of injury time, rang through the air, seemingly forever. I remember jumping in the air for joy, and looking across the field where our parents had collected and seeing them jumping up and down and hugging each other.

Our boys experienced a joy that perhaps only team sports can bring. It is a joy that is earned through commitment, skill, and a ton of hard work. I am not sure, but I think that to experience this level of joy, one has to first experience heartbreak, pick up the pieces, build up confidence, and then find redemption.