But because of her distinct lack of enthusiasm for sports in general, you can imagine my surprise when she volunteered to "help" David earn his D/E license to coach soccer. This constituted of two VERY long weekends where she had to get up every morning at 5:30 a.m. for a total of four six-plus-hour days in the hot sun. She was there every minute, participating enthusiastically. When the instructor would ask for critiques of the participants' drills, Rose's hand would shoot up in the air.
Instructor: Yes, Rose?
Rose: I found Coach B's drill with the three cones to be a good one. It was structured quite well, and I learned new things. Overall, it was thoroughly enjoyable.
Everyone was quite bemused by her. She became what I would call the class mascot, essential in some indefinable way to class morale. And in the end she was given an honorary D/E license.
Since she had such a good time with David's class, I thought she'd be really looking forward to the soccer camp that the kids are involved in this week. I was wrong. Things went downhill fast after some brief excitement upon meeting the class coaches.
Rose: (In a loud whisper) Mom, I think that guy was our coach last year.
Me: (Whispering back) I don't think so, sweetie.
Coach: (Also whispering) Actually, yes, I was.
That, unfortunately, was the highlight of her day. She came home dragging her feet, complaining about how hot it was (15 degrees cooler than when she was with David), how long the class was (less than half the time of David's), and how disappointed she was that nobody was listening to her instructions and suggestions on how to play. I encouraged her (see above) and went about my business.
A little bit about this soccer camp. Being run by young British men, it has been designed to function as a cross between Hogwarts and the World Cup. They have divided all the kids into four teams. The camp consists of learning soccer skills interspersed with World Cup games. Each team earns points by scoring goals and answering questions correctly. (10 points to Griffyndor!)
Now, even though Rose's first day didn't go as well as she had hoped, she decided to not let those recently acquired coaching skills go to waste. It was time to take her team in hand. Her first decision was what country they should be. While many kids were voting for Spain, she pointed out that there had been a Spain in last year's camp, and do we really want to repeat countries like that? No, we do not. She informed everyone they would be Canada. And because Rosie's airy-fairy exterior houses a will of steel, everybody agreed.
Her next move was as follows:
R: Mom, our team has some goals!
Me: Uh-huh. Well, you are playing soccer.
R: No, mom, not goals you score, goals you set.
Me: Oh, okay. Did your coaches tell the teams to set goals?
R: No, I just thought it was important. So I told our team that our goal would be to score one more point than we did the day before. Monday we scored nothing. Tuesday, I scored one goal. And today we scored two. I've told everyone they're doing really well, and tomorrow we would need to score a minimum of three goals.
Cower in fear, people. Today this charming girl has taken over the soccer field, tomorrow the world.
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