Soccer Weekend

My previous post inaccurately presaged the arrival of fall. Summer has returned in full glory, and this weekend has been a spectacular one, though some curmudgeons may claim that both Sat and Sun were a bit too hot. Not for me, though--I'm happy to cling to sundrenched weekends like this one as long as possible, even if you need a few more ice cubes to keep your iced coffee cold.

Both days were marathons. Saturday: up early for swimming, ran some errands, saw friends Ali and Sean's new house in Lexington, came home, (took a deep breath), hopped back in the car, did some more errands, (napped), got some ice cream, and then came home. And then Andres and I donned our jerseys and headed down to Gillette for some Revolution soccer.

We've been bringing Andres to Revolution games since he was a couple months old. So, in some ways, he has grown up with the team, or at least the experience of going to see the team play. And now that he is 3 he really does understand the whole experience more. All day he reminded me: "Daddy we go to the sta-mi-um tonight" (yes, "stamium"). Also: "Daddy we see the Rebs tonight" (yes, again, "Rebs"). Driving down Route 1 towards Gillette there was palpable excitement in the car--and the moment the lighttower/lighthouse was visible from the road, he was elated. "Daddy! The stamium!"

We wandered around the stadium a bit before taking our seats. Andres brought his drums--a couple of empty coffee cans duct-taped together with a Revolution sticker affixed--and took great pleasure in playing them as we walked. Yes, lots of people looked at us. I think everybody thought that this was the coolest thing they had seen all day--a 3-year old in a Revolution shirt with playing his own set of drums. We looked for Slyde, the Revs mascot, but he eluded us to Andres' great disappointment. We took our seats as play began.

At halftime (with the Revs leading, 1-0, on a Stolica goal) we climbed back up the stairs and went in search of bigger people with bigger drums. We found some in the Fort, and I could not help but laugh as I watched Andres stare at the drums and their drummers. It was as if he was in complete shock, envy, awe, and fear at the same time--the noise probably overwhelmed him, but he did not want to leave...nor did he want to talk to anyone. (He also did not want me to leave his side even to grab a quick picture!) Again, he turned heads and generated many "awww! isn't he the cutest!"s with his Rev Army-meets-little-drummer-boy look. But when Andres started asking me, "Daddy, why is that man screaming?" and pointed to a particularly irate (and profane) member of the home supporters club, I figured it was time to return to our seats.

Intently watching Ray, the Fort's chief drummer

A quick stop for a pretzel, then back down the stairs to our seats, then 2 goals for the Union, and that was it--the Revs lost and it was time to go home. Though he understands what goals are, I don't think Andres quite gets the idea that one team wins and the other loses, so he was unfazed by the loss. However, I believe Slyde's disappearing act may leave permanent scars.

Sunday: wake up, breakfast, Natalia off to Zumba, play outside with Sean and Jasmine, (minor meltdown), I tutor, Natalia, Andres, and Celia run to LL Bean, and then back to Gillette for meet the Revs.

Meet the Revs is the yearly, season-ticket-holder-only event where Revs players mingle with fans and sign autographs. The past couple years it has been held at Gillette on the field itself, which is really a cool thing...I can now say I have walked on the same ground as Tom Brady and Taylor Twellman (and I have the tiny black rubber fieldturf pellets in my shoes to prove it). Andres has a good time because while everyone else is hounding players for autographs he has an entire field and one GIANT goal to himself, and he can dribble and shoot to his heart's content.

His new obsession is the penalty spot or, as he likes to say, "the white grass." I don't quite know when this started but it seemed to reach a fever pitch during the World Cup (when we would play hallway soccer, he would get a little foam circle from his room, put it in the hall, and then place the ball on top of it before kicking it) and was very much in evidence today. There was my boy, all of 3 years old, placing his soccer ball on the penalty spot at Gillette and taking kicks. Oh--he's pretty good at it too, and managed to hit the goal more often than he missed it. So he had a good time.



His celebration style did not change much as he scored repeatedly.

This post has been guy-heavy and I feel like I must acknowledge that Celia also was on the field at Gillette today, hanging out in the stroller. This means that she has now been pushed around on the same ground that both Tom Brady and Taylor Twellman have been pushed around on (post injuries, of course, so I guess this is not an exact parallel). Taking her out of the stroller and letting her roam the grounds did not seem like a wise idea because of her penchant for eating everything...which most certainly would have included the little black fieldturf pellets.

It was hot on the field too, so after scoring some autographs we all went into the concourse and had a leisurely lunch. For Andres, lunch was fries, some fried chicken, and a little bit of pretzel. For Celia, lunch was yogurt, peas and carrots, cereal, cheese, and cheerios. Most of it ended up in her mouth but a not-insignificant portion also found its way into her hair or onto her shirt, meaning that she needed some cleaning up afterwards. This was her first Meet the Revs event, and she actually got closer to the players than her brother did, as she accompanied Natalia up to the autograph booths.

Andres took one final penalty kick before we left and both he and his sister fell asleep on the way home. It was a well deserved nap for both of them.