There’s a danger in posting and linking to another post, especially when that links to and refers to yet someone else’s post.

However, this Wall Street Journal blog post “The Truth About Soccer Moms” speaks to me more than the New York Times article it reviews “Mom Becomes a Devoted Team Player”.

It’s a fun read which may have you nodding knowingly, agreeing with her descriptions of juggling work commitments to attend sporting events. (And you know I mean dashing off to drive to soccer practices, not to sit in the boss’s sky box at a Rangers hockey game, right?)

The author states that her memories are
“not the wins, or even the championships. You remember the trips together, the characters on your teams, the coaches, the laughs. My adult stepson and I had a heart-warming conversation a while back about [team memories] . . . Now a successful business owner, my stepson mused, ‘I’m glad somebody remembers I was once a hockey player.’ . . .”

I will disagree about not remembering the wins, at least where high school soccer is concerned. Six years later Mr. Watson and I still grit our teeth as we drive into the stadium parking lot at XYZ High. (They knocked our older son’s team out of the state playoffs in 2004)!

But maybe because select team rosters changed often after U-13 — AND the various clubs throughout our region merged or changed names and affiliations — my chief memories of select soccer are the tournaments, local and distant:

* playing in February monsoons at the Jefferson Cup
* taking voluntary bumping on the last flight out (and praying we’d make it in time for a noon start)
* a U-15 goalkeeper leaving his size 13 cleats in a hotel room an hour away from the Disney fields
* a macho Dad humbly accepting a speeding ticket with a van full of snickering U-14s.

Tell us about your favorite memories of soccer parenting. I’m laying odds that they did not happen ON the pitch!