Dribble, break away, cross, and GOAL! The term of being a soccer mom has never made much sense to me. My son, Jackson, loves soccer. More when he was younger and he was the fastest kid on the field and scoring all the goals. Now that he is in high school it is another story. Last year he was one of the smallest boys on the varsity team. He had started at a brand new school in his freshman year. The school was small and only had enough players to make one team. He practiced with the team, yet when it came to games he had zero play time. He started to doubt his ability and questioning if he still loved soccer. Heading into summer Jackson had a big growth spurt and ended up developing knee issues. After months of physical therapy he started to feel like he would be able to try out for soccer. He made the JV team which was a much better fit for him. His knees continued to hurt and he went back to physical therapy. He has gotten to play in a couple of games this season, but seems to warm the bench most of the games. The term soccer mom confuses me to question the part I play ... warming the bench myself to watch my son do the same thing.
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