Craig and I took our camping chairs and expected to sit and enjoy the evening sun but ohhh nooo. Not with Danny the Whirling Dermish about. Picking up balls, digging into ladies handbags, running away and generally being a terror. During one high speed chase it did occur to me that I must be dreadfully unfit if an 18 month old can out-run me.
The Coach is a nice man. Forty I'd say and mellow and friendly. Not a frustrated Beckham thankfully, just a dad out for some fun. His son is on the team and his wife chatted with us on the sidelines.
Anyway, there were several other parents there that seemed really nice and we all made the right comments about "being four, just have fun, no need to be serious etc. etc." Except one couple. They were perfectly groomed and very serious about the whole thing. I knew as soon as Danny toddled up to the dad to touch a soccer ball and he scooped it up and said "No! I'm holding it right now" that I disliked him. Never mind. It'll give me some people watching opportunities if nothing else, in between watching Jack play on the pitch and watching Danny delving into peoples bags.
On the way home Jack said "I love my coach and I'm going to tell him next time!" so we had to have a little conversation about the difference between like and love. But I'm glad he likes soccer so much and I'm looking forward to his first game. As long as it doesn't clash with Buckeye Football of course.