Max and I were on the sidelines of Madi's soccer game Saturday. For some reason they have the tiny field about five feet from the big kids field (as in teenagers). So sitting on the sideline of the 4-5 year olds' game, you run the risk of getting kicked in the head by the big girls.
Maxine spent most of the time watching the big girls play. She would not take her eyes off that game. I was hoping she might pick up some skills that she's not getting during practice. That remains to be seen.
What she did get was an early lesson in being a good sport. During the game one of the girls on the yellow team fell and broke her arm. Maxine (who just two nights before would not go to sleep because "ER" sucked her in) watched even more intently as they worked on the girl on the field. About 20 minutes later (an eternity for the poor girl's parents, I'm sure), she got up and was walked off the field. All the time she was down on the grass, the team in white (that's the other team) was gathered, talking strategy. Apparently not giving a shit about the injured player. When she walked off to her dad's minivan that was waiting on the field to whisk her off to the hospital, the parents on the sideline clapped. The LadyBug parents clapped. Her team members cheered. But those girls in white did not put hands together to celebrate that she might be OK.
I was pissed. I wanted to go talk to their coach, I wanted to yell at them and explain how much they suck for not clapping. How could they make it to a competitive teenage level of soccer and not understand some general compassion?
The worst part? The team in white won the game.
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