Kids Can Be Salieri Too

So I titled my blog after that feeling you can have where you've got it all together, you've got it figured out... and just as fast you can feel awash in the crowd, lost despite it all... the Patron Saint of Mediocrity.

And while Zach is my Mozart, even he has his Salieri moments.

Yesterday was his first soccer practice. 3 1/2 - 5 year old class. Well, Zach's just 3 1/2, and he's never going to be a big kid, so he's probably sized closer to 3. He's also wicked athletic, and he did a good job learning the soccer drills, started trapping the ball on sporadic occasion, etc. Though admittedly he grew restless at times. C'mon... he's three.

But when it came time for a "game", it was another story. The coach picked the two oldest kids to play with, against 12 other kids, and Zach's age and speed was exposed. Coach rolled the ball onto the field, and Zach was the first one to it. And he tapped it, and before he could tap it again, the inevitable swarm of 4 year olds descended, taking the ball like a pack of bees and running in random directions, the ball careening ahead of them. Well, Zach didn't understand the whole notion that you're supposed to take the ball away, and none of the kids could grasp the concept that you're not supposed to take it away from your own teammate, but there you have it.

Zach had a meltdown, sobbing and crying that "I can't get the ball" and "They took it from me". It was so sweet and heartbreaking, because he both didn't understand that basic concept of futball, but that it was also painfully true that he wasn't going to be able to get the ball back - the other kids were too much bigger and faster. Most of the kids averaged between 4-4 1/2 I'd say, and that's a huge divide. Just like Zach's 2 1/2 year old friend Spencer can't physically keep up with Zach, Zach couldn't match their size and speed. He really felt like Salieri.

Coach and I agreed that Zach should move down to the smaller kids class, where he'll be on the flip side of that age divide. Maybe then he'll be the one with the ball... maybe he'll feel like a Mozart.