As I noted in this year’s annual card, there was a day deep in the pandemic when Nate and I were lamenting the loss of an ENTIRE All Stars season. Serious loss aversion. We’re in the living room and he says to me, “Mom, my dream is to play in Bakersfield.” Which, still to this day, sounds like one of the nicest things I’ve ever heard said about Bakersfield.
And the first stop on that road was, of course, our AYSO end of season tournament.
Now I may also have mentioned that the Raptors are a semi-dedicated gaggle of lads on the football pitch. On more than one occasion James and I wondered if our players were mostly there because their parents had had enough of lounging YouTube Zoom School zombies and signed them up for the first thing that arrived in their inbox. We ambitiously started the season practicing things like passing to space and movement, quickly adjusting to how to kick the ball. We worked up to kicking it hard and far and started winning some games.
At the end of the season we entered the tournament with modest ambitions. Then two or three of the top teams were disqualified for playing their best guys too much and we leaped up the ranks. We won our first game and then faced off against our baseball coach from past posts.
It’s a very tight game. We’re tied at the end of the second half and go into overtime. At this point, we give Nate full permission to just get the ball and score while Cruz holds down the back. During the first overtime Nate gets the ball and is up against an aggressive opponent who is now one of our All Stars teammates. He sees an opening and drives toward the goal.
On the far side of the field, our teammate Luke is playing right forward and starts running eagerly toward the goal. He’s in an offside position, but if you know anything about Nate, it’s clear he’s definitely not going to pass. Never crosses his mind. He takes it down and scores in the bottom left corner, while the other sideline, and particularly the coach, are screaming their heads off.
Now the offside rule I’m sure is the topic of countless hours of debate in British pubs across the land where it was most certainly invented by drunks. In any case, in AYSO, if the kid off side is not in the play and isn’t distracting the defense, then it doesn’t matter. Meanwhile our linesman is a powerful and respected member of the AYSO elite volunteers corps. Our sideline of parents starts shouting and griping about the other team’s coach’s shouting and griping. I take one look at the linesman and tell our side to zip it. We’re good. I’m a bit of a hobbyist expert on the power hierarchy of Damon Garcia and Nate’s goal is going to stand.
That’s when it gets heated. There’s long-distance yelling. It gets personal. The Raptors end up winning in overtime, but not before a red card and a personal escort to the parking lot for our previous coach. It’s high drama. Nate and I have some good life lesson car talks on the drive home.
Later that day James and Jake head down to the outdoor store to look for Banff gear and overhear someone recounting the entire story as they browse wool socks and ski pants. Gotta love a small town. James texts me a gif of Homer Simpson fading backwards into a hedge.
Following our win, we lose our third game to the Unripe Tomatoes (pronounced Tomahtoes) under extreme heat conditions and elatedly accept our second place medals.
Next stop: Lompoc.