It started innocently enough. Several years ago my wife coaxed our then-7-year-old son to play AYSO soccer. Mostly she was trying an early diversion away from (American) football - the big fall sport - and the injuries she was sure would follow down that path. I don't think any mother wants to see her son hit really hard by someone else's really large son moving at a high rate of speed while wearing a hard helmet with the specific intent to cause pain, if not injury. My wife plans ahead. So she acted.
Fair enough, I thought. Soccer looks like a good sport, even though I myself had never played a minute. He could play AYSO in the fall and baseball (a REAL sport, meaning one I played growing up) in the spring. Besides it would be a good way for my kid to meet more kids in our new neighborhood.
I don't even think we had a soccer ball in the house then.
Turned out my kid was really good at soccer. He really liked playing, too. I was now a soccer dad.
So began my slow slide into a magnificent soccer obsession.
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