When I picked up Ph. from futbol practice this morning noon,
he reported–big smile–that he’s been offered a spot on the varsity squad.
We’re happy for him, of course, and he’s excited, encouraged by the invitation.
Still, of sophomores on varsity, I’m of, oh…say, twelve or thirteen minds.
I’ll bother mentioning just a few of them. Consider:

• Sitting the bench as a sophomore is a waste of time. Take advantage of
  practices or it’s a lost season of development.
• The sophomore on JV is likely to get minutes, has a shot at a leadership
  role, develops confidence and gains valuable experience.
• If older players aren’t watched and the going gets tough (as in a sub-.500
  season), underclass players can sponge it up, suffer the brunt of it.
• A right-headed sophomore who toughs it out (persistent and dependable
  effort, attends everything on time, etc.) stands to develop a better
  relationship with the v. coach.

Probably sounds like I’m anticipating the worst. Bad case of parental wariness.
Because no. 2 in the list best describes my experience with H.S. sports, I’m
burdened with a mild when-I-was-young bias. Of course this isn’t just
some arbitrary and inconsequential scenario. It’s the scenario. So
I’d better get busy suppressing my apprehensions, let this fine opportunity run
its course, and relax knowing that Ph. will make the most of it, like he always
does.

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Group: EWM Cup Gold 2006, Password: ewm. Or you can simply
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Thursday Ph. finished his freshman
soccer season
without a single loss.  Well yeah, he had a coach and teammates who were
pretty good, too.

At alma mater, E. &
Co. are ranked

7th nationally with one regular season contest remaining–today against
the fourth-ranked team.  The national tournament this year is at Daytona
Beach in late November.  How far is DB from Syracuse?  Too far, I’m
afraid.

Here’s Ph.’s soccer schedule for the fall.  I suppose I might be read as
a doting fan-father, the type who hyper-celebrates all things to do with sport
at the expense other stuff (such as reading, the arts…).  Yeah, whatever. 
Ph.’s been playing soccer since he was four; I am a fan.  The first
scrimmage was this afternoon.  Afterward we grabbed a quick-cook dinner
from Price Chopper, hurried home to put it together, then picked up D. from
class so we could all attend the two-hour family orientation at NHS.  Only
this time I was thoroughly impressed with the staff, the student tour-guides,
the presence and involvement of teachers, administrators and the principal.  High school…wow. Came on fast.

Continue reading →

Yesterday Ph. picked out cleats for the fall.  No slowing down in these;
they won’t allow it.  I’ve never
seen shoes that made me feel so fast and so much like running just by looking at
them.

On the subject of fast, he’s got to muster a six minute mile in
about two weeks.  To pep him up for it, I broke out one of the
when-I-was-young parentals (that genre of uphill both ways; obscure,
groan-summoning lore of self).  Told him
that in college, guards had to break 5:30 and bigs had to make a mile under six
minutes before we could move workouts indoors in the fall.  And lap three,
lap three was my nemesis–the impossible leg of end’s not quite in sight. (To
say nothing of the heated debates about who was a guard and who was a big. 
Imagine the enthusiasm of newly converted 6-2 power forwards.)  But like so
many kids who hear the when-I-was-young parental, he rendered my wisdom
inapplicable: "We’re running it on a straight-away."  Hence, no lap three. 
But still, that anyone as lumbering as me can hit 6:00 ought to be of some
encouragement, don’t you think?  And if only I’d had shoes this glimmering-fast…

Added: Observing that I’m blogging about his cleats, Ph. just leaned in
to look.  Me: "Shiny, aren’t they." Ph.: "I just cleaned them." (He had a
summer league match last night.)

D. and I drove over to Marcellus this afternoon to take in one of Ph.’s last
soccer matches of the fall.  I can’t overstate the value of getting off
campus, winding through the CNY countryside this time of year.  Several
amazing scapes surround on Syracuse’s edges; we turned off at Marcellus Falls
just before arriving at the field.  I probably won’t be able to take in
either of the last two matches (next week), and I still hadn’t snapped any pics
this season, so we had several good reasons to make the 30 minute drive. 

The digital camera’s been on the shelf all fall.  I’ve used it
intermittently–wacky in-house blogabilia, but nothing like I was doing a year
ago when chronicling these
fellas (#4
nationally, wtg E. et al.) was my mainstay.  So I dusted of the
electra-kodachrome, shuttered a few moments from today’s match.  Below, two
of my favorites.  More photoshere.