As a parent I feel it is my duty to apologize to the wider soccer community for the actions of my son during last night’s game at the Ultimate Prices Soccer Arena. Most of you will know the pain I have had to suffer in raising this spawn of the Nebraska Nutcrunchers' assistant associate coach, but last night he pushed me over the edge.
After having spent the whole of his mid-winter break in front of the TV watching those fancy-dancers in the EPL tripping their twinkle toes through defenses that couldn’t contain the contents of his sister’s training bra, he gets it into his head that he has to try and emulate them. So, deep into stoppage time in a tied game, he somehow manages to waltz into the box without screwing up like he usually does. Then, to my total shame, he flops over under the slightest of contacts to his left ear by the cleat of the opposing team’s central defender. Unfortunately for the concept of fair play, the ref was some 40 yards behind at the time adjusting his knee brace, but raised his head just in time to award us a PK with only seconds to play. The boy blunder steps up to convert the kick for his first goal since at least last Saturday.
Oh yes, the parents were all smiles to my face at the end, but I could see what they were really thinking: Why can’t he do a crunching tackle on their star striker in the opening minute? Why can’t he leave the impression of his expensive cleats on the leg of their left outside mid? Why can’t he give us the good old ‘shoulder to chest’ move? Why can’t he be a manly cheat like the rest of the boys?
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