Braedyn had his first soccer practice yesterday and has his first game a week from tomorrow. Anyone who has ever watched little kids play soccer know it is not about competition, strategy, or winning goals. Nope. It’s all about the chase. If the soccer ball made up the nucleus of a cell, then the kids make up everything else inside the cell membrane. The ball and the kids move as a single unit. Forget teams. Forget which goal belongs to which team. It’s all about the fluid motion. A single unit.
As Greg and I watched Braedyn during his first practice, we wondered which one of us he’ll take after. Will it be Greg? If he does then he’ll decide he really hates this organized sports crap and run full force toward something else. To a world full of bits and bytes maybe? Or will it be me he takes after? If he does then he’ll feed his competitiveness with organized sports and feel sick to his stomach in the process. He’ll love the thrill and hate the stress of it equally through each aerobic breath. Or who knows? Maybe there will be some crazy mutation between my sports gene and Greg’s to form something altogether different and unknown?
It ultimately doesn’t matter if he ends up with my sport gene, Greg’s, or a combination of both. As long as he is happy, satisfied, and fulfilled by the genes he was dealt. And in the meantime we have the joy and privilege of watching him discover himself. And we’ll be cheering him on.