You Should Blog About Raising Strong Daughters

That Alan Parsons Project listening run that started in The Medium Writing Temperature is still going on inside my head and on my iTunes.

So I am back at the computer accompanied by Eye In The Sky and a focus on distilling the million thoughts in my head into a more manageable grouping.

Got to calm down the noise and break up a six-mile long “to-do” list in bite size chunks and pieces.

It is late Saturday morning and I am standing on the sidelines of my daughter’s soccer game.

We’re one minute away from finishing up the second overtime period and if neither sides scores we’ll move to penalty kicks.

It is a brutal way to determine a winner, especially because this game is for the championship.

My daughter has no idea how badly I want her team to win or how it all ties into something that happened several years back.

Back then she played for a different team and her coaches were awful.

No need to rehash all the reasons why they were bad and awful.

Suffice it to say that I carry some anger and guilt from then because I should have pulled her from that team sooner, but thought that if she gutted it out it would be a good teaching moment.

Some years later I look at that as having been a mistake. It would have been better if I had gotten her out of there sooner, but I didn’t.

Flash back to present and I am cheering her on, my girl is deceptively fast. If you haven’t seen her run you probably won’t expect how fast she moves.

Dear old dad is obviously biased and proud, especially when I see her use her shoulders to bull her way through a crowd and save a goal…twice.

I want to take pictures so that I can preserve this moment. I want her to see what I see, a face filled with joy and determination.

You Should Blog About Raising Strong Daughters

“I heard you do some writing, ever thought about starting a blog? A lot of writers do it.”

The speaker is another parent on the team. I nod my head and I say I have written a couple of posts.

“You ought to blog about raising strong daughters.”

I nod my head and tell him that she just won some awards at her school for History and PE, but I don’t mention that with the exception of the ‘B’ in her math class she has all ‘A’s.

Nor do I mention she told me she is frustrated because her older brother has straight ‘A’s and she wants to match him.

But I do tell him that the night before the game I had a long talk with her.

“I want you to focus on having fun.”

“If we win I’ll have fun and if we don’t I’ll cry.”

“If you play hard and give it all you have got you’ll have no reason not to be proud of yourself and no reason not to have had fun, win or lose.”

“Daddy, do you understand how badly I want to win.”

It is not a real question and I get it, because she gets that competitive fire from me.  I still dive on the floor for loose balls and run through people in a simple pick up game.

I understand, but I don’t want to her to assign value solely based upon the outcome of the game. I want it based upon how hard she/I/we work.

Work hard and you can go to bed knowing you did all you can do and be comfortable even if it doesn’t go your way.

Any moment now the ref is going to blow the whistle and the second overtime will end. I yell at her to look for her moment and go for it.

She intercepts a pass on the far left and starts dribbling up the sideline. She is outracing the girls behind her but in a moment she’ll be smack in the middle of some defenders so she tries to kick the ball over their heads into the center of the field.

It is a chip shot that isn’t bad, but I can see from her face it is not what she wanted it to do.

I don’t care because I can’t be prouder or more excited for her.

The ref blows the whistle and we go into penalty kicks.

What Is Important

The girls on both teams line up and alternating taking shots on goal.

For a few moments our girls are ahead and it looks like we are going to win, but that is not to be. Today they’ll see just how harsh a way this can be to lose.

A girl on the other team takes her shot on our goal and a loud cheer goes up, our goalie has blocked it, except she hasn’t.

She knocked the ball down but there is enough momentum and spin on it for it to drop and still roll into the goal.

Milliseconds later the other team screams with happiness and tears start to fall down the faces of our girls.

But what catches my eye is my daughter she is running to comfort our goalie and to tell her it is ok.

Later on the division head will tell my girl he thought she was the best player on the field and we’ll say thank you.

It makes me proud to hear that but what I am proudest of is how my daughter looked out for her friend and teammate.

That is what is most important.

I don’t have it on tape or film so I can’t show her and even if I did I don’t know if I could really make her see what I saw.

I hope that joy and confidence never leaves her, I know the image won’t ever leave me.

• Saved: Children