When I was 12 or so years old I
dreamed of being a professional soccer player.
Or football as we call it
in the part of the world where I grow up.
Our club trained twice a week and played
matches on weekends.
Some of us kids played soccer every chance we had.
Lunch break at school, after school, weekends
between matches.
But I went a step further.
I stayed on my own long after everyone had gone home.
Trixing with the ball.
Practicing shooting.
Running with the ball dribbling fantasy opponents.
I ran alone in the forest, up and down hill,
miles after miles.
To build stamina.
I even practiced with the senior team to get stronger.
The picture is of my youngest son.
Now about the age I was back then.
He doesn't quit when the other kids have had enough.
I never had much talent.
I didn't become a professional soccer player.
No matter how hard I tried.
No matter how much I really wanted it.
If I had put all that energy into something
I had talent for
maybe
I could have become something
or somebody?
I hope he will.
Maybe he won't be professional soccer player,
although he shows a lot more talent than I did.
But maybe he turns out smarter than me.
For now I just want him to enjoy
what he enjoys most.
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