Soccer, moms and me: I'd rather die
Kat Timpf
Issue date: 4/16/09 Section: Opinion
Deciding to have children is a risky choice. Even with the most careful parenting, kids can still develop childhood problems, such as bedwetting, obesity, reading disabilities or an interest in soccer.
Yes, soccer. I feel worse about playing youth soccer than anything else I've ever done to my parents. Youth soccer damages the mothers of its participants, thrusting them into miserable conditions and social situations, only to prove a worthless endeavor for both them and their offspring.
Anyone who has sat sweating on heat-scorched grass watching some snot-nosed toddler repeatedly smack the h- out of the tee instead of the ball knows the misery of watching children's sports. But at least parents of kids in other outdoor sports get the occasional relief of a game cancellation.
Not Soccer Moms. Rain, shine, blizzard - it doesn't matter, those kids will be out there chasing that ball like puppies. Not to mention that when they get back into your minivan, they will make a bigger mess than the most mischievous puppy ever could. Mud, sweat, rain, fruit-punch flavored juice - this concoction stains the car seats of every true Soccer Mom.
Speaking of juice boxes, don't forget that responsibility. Soccer Moms rotate bringing post-game snacks and half-time orange slices, something especially exciting for the obese children whose parents make them play. Those kids will cry if the designated mom forgets to bring treats. Worse, other Soccer Mothers will whisper to one another behind their cupped hands and gleaming acrylic nails.
Because soccer isn't just a competition between kids. It's a competition between Soccer Moms. There are always a group of moms who lead the pack: hosting team dinners, making the team banner and bringing thermoses full of hot chocolate to all of the cold games normal people don't attend. They don't just bring snacks - they bring the best snacks. They know when Twinkies are "out" and Fruit Roll Ups are "in." Naturally, they don't have jobs, because then they would have less time to make the average Soccer Mom feel inadequate.
I put my parents through five years of misery by playing soccer, and I never gained a single thing from it. I wish I had made better use of those precious years by reading classic literature or learning a foreign language. Anything but soccer. I failed miserably at it, and I left every game and practice feeling only worse about myself. I'm just glad I failed early on, or else I might have kept wasting my time. I might have gone on to play in high school, even college, before I realized no one cares about soccer on this side of the Atlantic.
All things considered, I'd rather buy my kid a pair of brass knuckles and send him into the streets than buy him a pair of shin guards and send him onto the soccer field.
Yes, soccer. I feel worse about playing youth soccer than anything else I've ever done to my parents. Youth soccer damages the mothers of its participants, thrusting them into miserable conditions and social situations, only to prove a worthless endeavor for both them and their offspring.
Anyone who has sat sweating on heat-scorched grass watching some snot-nosed toddler repeatedly smack the h- out of the tee instead of the ball knows the misery of watching children's sports. But at least parents of kids in other outdoor sports get the occasional relief of a game cancellation.
Not Soccer Moms. Rain, shine, blizzard - it doesn't matter, those kids will be out there chasing that ball like puppies. Not to mention that when they get back into your minivan, they will make a bigger mess than the most mischievous puppy ever could. Mud, sweat, rain, fruit-punch flavored juice - this concoction stains the car seats of every true Soccer Mom.
Speaking of juice boxes, don't forget that responsibility. Soccer Moms rotate bringing post-game snacks and half-time orange slices, something especially exciting for the obese children whose parents make them play. Those kids will cry if the designated mom forgets to bring treats. Worse, other Soccer Mothers will whisper to one another behind their cupped hands and gleaming acrylic nails.
Because soccer isn't just a competition between kids. It's a competition between Soccer Moms. There are always a group of moms who lead the pack: hosting team dinners, making the team banner and bringing thermoses full of hot chocolate to all of the cold games normal people don't attend. They don't just bring snacks - they bring the best snacks. They know when Twinkies are "out" and Fruit Roll Ups are "in." Naturally, they don't have jobs, because then they would have less time to make the average Soccer Mom feel inadequate.
I put my parents through five years of misery by playing soccer, and I never gained a single thing from it. I wish I had made better use of those precious years by reading classic literature or learning a foreign language. Anything but soccer. I failed miserably at it, and I left every game and practice feeling only worse about myself. I'm just glad I failed early on, or else I might have kept wasting my time. I might have gone on to play in high school, even college, before I realized no one cares about soccer on this side of the Atlantic.
All things considered, I'd rather buy my kid a pair of brass knuckles and send him into the streets than buy him a pair of shin guards and send him onto the soccer field.
Viewing Comments 1 - 1 of 1
Anne Marie
posted 4/21/09 @ 9:01 PM EST
This was very funny! I showed this editorial to other moms at work and they could relate. You made many soccer moms chuckle...thanks!
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