Hustle Means Run.

Last Saturday, I had the pleasure of attending two very exciting soccer games: The Bisons and The Hurricanes. That is, my sweet, little niece and nephew played youth soccer, and I finally was able to attend. I've always felt like a sub-par Auntie for consistently missing their games, but it's not always easy to make the 3-hour drive by 10am on a Saturday, and it's taken a few years. But let me tell you, it was worth the wait.

It was a gorgeous, albeit HOT day in Oroville, and the perfect contrast to my life in the city: grass as far as the eye can see, children laughing and playing, no urine to speak of—almost paradise. The games were played in the large mass of grass between the school where my mother teaches (and has teached almost my entire life), and my old middle school. Watching my little ones play in the same league that I played in as a babe, in the literal space between two important eras of my life, was significant, to say the least.

The first game was with Isabelle's team, The Bisons. Watching that little gal on the field brought me right back to my own soccer days at her age—both of us were completely over it. She was put on defense (I was always stuck as the goalie), and pretty much remained disinterested in the happenings of the game the whole time. Wherever the action was, Isabelle sort of wasn't—even with her backed turned to it, and occasionally following her coach's request to, "Hustle!" Girl, I've been there. Also like her Auntie, I think she's going to move on to cheerleading soon.


Some parents are very vocal at these games, something I've always heard about, but never totally experienced. Wowza! The intensity may have been lacking on the field, but it was overflowing from the sidelines. The MVP was the coach from Conner's opposing team, who by far gets the award for, "Most Needs to Shut the &*%#$ Up."

Either way, The Bisons won and they performed the classic "good game" high-fives (which delighted me to no end), and Isabelle collected her post-game snack of Capri Sun and peanut butter crackers. Isn't it really all about the snacks anyway?


After The Bisons game, we made our way across the field, to watch Conner's team, The Hurricanes. Let me tell you: my nephew is exciting to watch on the field. I've always known that he had a natural talent, I mean, he's been kicking around the ball since I can remember. It's just so impressive to watch him on the field, and I can't help but to speculate where this sport will take him.

Growing up, I took a stab at a variety of sports (volleyball, soccer, basketball, cheerleading, golf), but it was quite evident that my sports career wasn't going beyond the bench. Everyone else in my family had similar ho-hum performances—not that my brother wasn't a great football player, but none of us had expectations beyond high school. We had to rely on our smarts. I think this kid might have some different opportunities ahead of him.

The Hurricanes won as well, and I had a fabulous time hanging out with all the soccer moms and dads. It was a very short, but very sweet trip.

Next time, I may try to schedule a little more Rock Band practice.