I never played a game of soccer in my life. When I was nine years old, I asked my mom if I could be on a girls’ soccer team. She didn’t even think about it. “No, sorry, I don’t want you to get hurt,” was her calm but unwavering response. I didn’t push it. I didn’t want it that much, I guess. Instead, I became a cheerleader on the “Little Red Devils,” my brothers’ soccer team. My dad was the head coach.
Fast forward to motherhood: I am a mom to two boys, ages seven and eight, who are sports fanatics. They play sports, they watch sports, they even find ways in school to write about sports. According to my seven-year-old’s math teacher, he figures out his math problems by talking about touchdowns and two point conversions.