This started last Saturday, when my girls decided to try out for select teams. One U12, one U14. Unfortunately, my younger daughter rolled her ankle an hour and a half into the tryout, and had to leave early. The older one excelled, putting everything she's got into her passing, running, proving her enduring, speed, and skill.
Being a two day tryout, we thought maybe daughter #2 (Rachel) still had a chance, so we taped her ankle and sent her back out. Unfortunately, it was obvious to us, as well as the coaches I'm sure, that she was favoring the unhurt leg, so most of her shooting and passing was done with her left foot (which she is pretty good at), and her speed wasn't up to par. Daughter #1 excelled once again with her speed and accuracy.
And then we wait. The U12 team was posted that night, and as we thought, Rachel was not on the list, though one of her friends, and former team mate was.
We had to wait until Monday night to hear back from the U14 team. I got the call on my cell phone, that Mary was in.
Next, dealing with disappointment and jealousy. I think she's okay, she still has a team that her dad coaches, which is another story all itself.
So, we've never played select, but costs and commitment are much more than rec. Uniforms, warm ups, ball bags, tournaments, travel. Two nights a week for practices, come September, Saturdays are gone for games, in which we travel up to about 40 miles for, with a few weekends in between for tourneys in WA and OR. And that's just for the one team.
Once Rachel's team starts, it's four nights a week and all day Saturdays. We'll have to split time with Rusty coaching Rachel, which scares the hell out of me, because I hate driving long distances, thank God for Garmin.
But that's not all. I am the team manager for Rusty's team, Thunder. It starts with e-mails, then on to paperwork, forms, money, planning fund raisers, talking to the park district, updating the website, making snack schedule, keeping stats, planning the party, ordering trophies, and socks, planning camps, sending reminder e-mails about games and snack and party. Plus, I've tie dyes socks and uniforms for the last three years (yes I'm crazy) It's a full time job.
And don't even get me started about my car. Aside from having to fill it with gas every other day, it's also stuffed to the gills with balls, cones, pennies, first aid kits, water, cleats, etc. etc.
Just talking about it is making me tired. It's just the beginning right now. If you don't see me until next January, you know where I'll be. On the pitch.