The Return of Soccer Dad

August marked the return of soccer dad. No, I am not talking about Soccer Dad the blogger, but myself. Yes, the mighty Jack B., the one time soccer coach and oft time soccer dad. Frankly I didn't want to coach this year. Got a lot going on and was concerned that I wouldn't have enough time to properly devote to the team.

The last thing I wanted to do was make a commitment that I couldn't uphold so I made a point not to volunteer to be a head or assistant coach. No, this year I was going to be the dad who showed up to all the games and as many practices as possible but not the coach.

The kids weren't real happy about it and asked me to change my mind. I told them why I had chosen to decline to do it and explained how it is important to follow through on commitments. Fortunately they both told me that they understood and that was the end of it- or so I thought it would be.

What I didn't know was that I would receive a telephone call explaining that they didn't have enough coaches to handle the girls division that my daughter was supposed to play in. They told me that if it didn't change the would have an uneven number of teams which would result in having to kill a team. That would mean that a bunch of girls would end up on the wait list.

I was more than a little irritated to hear this because the unspoken threat was that my daughter might be among those who were wait listed.  And that my friends was a serious problem. The dark haired beauty has spoken for months about this season and how excited she was to play. So I was left with a dilemma, offer my services and guarantee that my daughter could play or roll the dice that she wouldn't be wait listed.

It was a bad position to be placed in. We made a point of registering her early enough that she shouldn't have been at risk, but I decided that I didn't want to take a chance. And so it was that I decided to return to coaching.

Now mind you that coaching a group of six year-olds is a bit like herding cats. It is an experience but then again it is one hell of a lot of fun. Besides, the beauty of this age is that it is not about winning or learning plays. This is about having a good time, getting out from under the Wii and learning how to be part of a team.

So for the next 12 weeks or so I'll spend part of my week and weekend playing shepherd. Should be interesting.

We Are Just Friends

I remember the day that she told him that they were just friends. It was the tail end of summer, about a 150 degrees in the shade. It was the sort of day that you wanted to spend at the beach or poolside drinking something cold. Unfortunately for Johnny when that call came he wasn't in either place.

Actually, I am not sure that I quite know where Johnny was when June called. Can't say if he was outside working on the house or inside working at the computer. Not sure that it really matters, but what I know for certain is that June's words stung him deeply. The man was beyond livid when I found him.

We were supposed to get lunch that day but he never showed. I called him at home and on his cell but received no answer. Tried email, text and smoke signals too but there was still silence. It wasn't like him to completely ignore me so I drove over to his place to check on him. Rang the doorbell and was greeted with more silence. When I peered inside the garage window and saw his car I got nervous. Started to pound on the door and then realized I could hear some sort of repetitive banging.

So I walked over to the side gate, flipped up the lock and walked down past his trashcans towards the yard. As I eased on down the road I recognized that repetitive noise as the sound of someone punching a heavy bag. When I walked around the corner I saw him beating that bag with the sort of fury that would normally be reserved for something truly terrible.

I made a point of making some noise so that he wouldn't be surprised by my appearance. The last thing I wanted was for him to attack me. When he turned towards me the first thing that I noticed was the vein on his forehead was bulging. That is not good- 'cuz when you have known Johnny as long as I have you know that vein is the precursor to a meeting with something ugly. That vein is one of the easiest ways to tell the difference between irritated and truly angry.

He took a moment to try to wipe the sweat out of his eyes, glanced at me and went back to punishing the bag for its transgressions. I let him keep swinging for a while and then told him that I feared the D.A. would press charges for murder one. He didn't crack a smile or offer a retort.

And that my friends is the second sign that Johnny is seriously angry. When he goes silent on you it is time to make sure that you aren't close enough to be crushed in those gorilla arms or struck by some flying object. To be fair, that famous temper of his hasn't really been shown in quite some time. Some of the edge has been taken off by age and frankly by June. That woman has done more for Johnny than she realizes.

Anyway, since I wasn't the one who was angry I walked inside the house, pulled a couple of cold beers from the fridge and headed back outside. Wasn't gone for more than a minute, but it was long enough for him to have pulled the gloves off of his hands. Normally I would have tossed the beer to him, but it didn't seem appropriate so I walked over and handed it to him.

For a moment he stood there on the patio staring off into space. It wasn't a problem, the silence that is. We have known each other for so long that we don't have to fill the time with small talk. Slowly he began to tell me about June. He began with some background, filled me in on where things were with the two of them.

They had been on sort of a hiatus of some sort. Not really sure how else to describe it, nor can I tell you how it happened. It was more than a bit of a surprise to me. I have never seen two people more in love than they were. But then again, they are both more than a little bit stubborn and pig headed. And for the time being, they had been living apart in different states. I suspect that the actual distance had played a role in creating distance between them.

Anyway, it seemed that June had decided that they were going to be just friends or something like that. It wasn't the first time that she had said it, but for whatever reason this time it stuck with him, chapped his hide more than a little bit. Still, it wasn't clear to me what had happened or why so I asked a bunch of questions and found that he really didn't know the answers.

So I looked at him and asked why he didn't know. He just sort of shrugged his shoulders and insisted that she wouldn't speak. I can't tell you if that is true or not. Not saying that Johnny is a liar, but sometimes people get so close to a situation they lose all perspective.

I said as much to him and waited for a response. He nodded his head and told me that it was possible. Reiterated how much he loved her and that he could imagine life without her. But he also said that he wasn't convinced that she understood that he wouldn't wait forever and that he wouldn't be played. I nodded my head and suggested that he try to find a way to talk to her.

Told him that if he had invested this much in her that it wouldn't hurt him and reminded him that it was entirely possible that the source of all this was a misunderstanding. The last thing he wanted to do was paint himself into a corner from which he couldn't get out of.

In return I received a nod and a smile- ok I don't really think he was smiling at me. I am sure that he was thinking of June and I couldn't help but wonder if either one of them had a clue what they had in the other. It would be more than a damn shame if they let it all slip away.

Sometimes Heroes Stumble

I have a darker side that sometimes I let out. Sometimes I let the beast out of his cage and watch as he roams about hither and thither. Sometimes I wonder if he senses that the only shackles upon his body are those that are self imposed.

James Gordon Jr.: Why's he running, Dad?
Lt. James Gordon: Because we have to chase him.
James Gordon Jr.: He didn't do anything wrong.
Lt. James Gordon: Because he's the hero Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs right now. So we'll hunt him because he can take it. Because he's not our hero. He's a silent guardian, a watchful protector. A dark knight.

I love that edge. Love that hard outer shell. Batman isn't like Superman. He doesn't have superpowers- can't overpower the bad guys through strength or speed. He operates in the shadows and does what has to be done to keep Gotham safe. And though he does have some lines that he will not cross, he is indeed a dark knight.

Bruce Wayne: Targeting me won't get their money back. I knew the mob wouldn't go down without a fight, but this is different. They crossed the line.
Alfred Pennyworth: You crossed the line first, sir. You squeezed them, you hammered them to the point of desperation. And in their desperation they turned to a man they didn't fully understand.
Bruce Wayne: Criminals aren't complicated, Alfred. Just have to figure out what he's after.
Alfred Pennyworth: With respect, sir, perhaps this is a man that *you* don't fully understand.

Even heroes stumble.They fail and they fall just as the rest of us do. And perhaps sometimes they fear that perhaps that they aren't enough, that they just don't have it.

Bruce Wayne: People are dying, Alfred. What would you have me do?
Alfred Pennyworth: Endure, Master Wayne. Take it. They'll hate you for it, but that's the point of Batman, he can be the outcast. He can make the choice that no one else can make, the right choice.
Bruce Wayne: Well today I found out what Batman can't do. He can't endure this. Today you get to say "I told you so."
Alfred Pennyworth: Today, I don't want to.
[pauses for several moments]
Alfred Pennyworth: But I did bloody tell you.

And if they are really lucky they have their "Alfred" to help keep them on the path- to remind them that though they may fall down there is a difference between getting up and giving up.

Desire

I always knew what I wanted to be
I knew for sure, I knew for sure
Always knew it was them or me
I wanted more, more and more
It's all right, it's O.K.
None of them people gonna take it away
They don't know like I know
And I can't stop 'cause it drives them crazy

It drives them crazy, 'cause I won't be cool
It's too late baby

It's the same old desire
Nothing has changed, nothing's the same
Burning like fire
Don't you ever take my name in vain

Always moving, somewhere else to be
Moving on, moving on
Scream at you and you scream at me
Right or wrong, right or wrong
It's all right, it's O.K.
No one's ever gonna take us away
'Cause they don't know like I know
I gotta keep rockin', 'cause it makes me crazy

It makes me crazy, who needs to be cool
Life's amazing

It's the same old desire
Crazy train, crazy train
Burning like fire
Don't you ever take my name in vain

It's the same old desire
Nothing has changed, nothing's the same
Burning like fire
Don't you ever take my name in vain

Same old desire
Crazy train, crazy train
Burning like fire
Don't you ever take my name in vain
Desire- Ozzy Osbourne

I hear voices inside my head. Little whispers that suggest that maybe I am not enough. Not enough for whatever it is that I am trying to do. They fight for my attention during the day and at night. Whispers that hint that I just don't have it, whatever it may be. They try to prey upon insecurity and doubt- they question my willingness to go the distance.

It is a funny thing these voices that I hear. You are not supposed to say such things. You are not supposed to say that you hear people that aren't really there. That sort of admission is the kind of thing that might lead others to suggest that you go spend time in a room with white walls and fluorescent lighting. A short visit so that someone in a lab coat can talk to you about life. A man or woman with a clipboard and a list of questions that they use to verify whether your grasp on reality is slipping.

But I don't worry about those people, could care less about telling you about the whispers I hear and how they question me. Those voices don't ever tell me to do anything dangerous. They never suggest that I go play on the freeway or take a long walk off the edge of the Santa Monica Pier. All they ever do is ask me to answer their questions about whether I am enough or whether I have it.

I have a standard response to them. I simply tell them to STFU. I put on my headphones and focus on what it is that I want and how I intend to meet that objective. The driving force behind it all is no different from what Ozzy sings about here, Desire. That is it. Desire, force of will and the willingness to take that step into the fog.

That first step into the unknown is exhilarating and frightening. I love testing myself, pushing to see if I can go a little bit further. It is part of why I love playing basketball, or should I say rebounding. It is not size or talent that makes the difference. It is will. It is desire.

And I have it. I have that fire in the belly. I know what it means to want something...badly. Intensity and fire. They drive me. They push me into the breach. They make me take on the bigger guy under the basket. They are part of why in football I loved playing defensive line. The guy across from me might be bigger, but he doesn't have enough fire to stop me. Can't possibly keep it up for an hour, not with the same intensity.

That is how I respond to the voices. It is the best method that I have found for myself. The quickest and most effective response. It might sound like male bravado. Might sound like a man in a silly pissing contest but it works for me and that is what is most important.

It is what I teach my children. I tell them that they will always have the support of their parents and their family, but we can't live their lives for them. All we can do is try to give them the tools to make it happen, whatever it may be. With a little luck and a little effort desire just might be part of that.