Once upon a time I played Under-10 soccer

I played for the Vols (sad name, but we wore blue and white colors). I had several friends on my team and on others as we had really grown up playing on various teams with each other. One Saturday morning, my team was to play in the league championship, and we were slated to play one of my closer friends Kenton’s team, and sadly I do not remember the name of that team, let’s call them the Dirty Dawgs.

My team was the defending champs, we had several studs, and this was our championship to lose. Kent’s team, coached by his dad, only had one guy worth much, Kent. He played the center midfield, and made a living as a ten year old of dishing the ball out to the wings, making beautiful through passes, and overlapping the wingers to make lofty crosses into the box. He was a force, and again, their only force.

So, I’m getting geared up and ready for the game, you know taking some shots, getting my touch ready, just warming up a little. As I remember it was cold, long sleeves kind of cold, show up to the game in sweats kind of cold. So, when Kent came over before the game to talk to some of us, him being in sweats didn’t really mean much. But, then after our little pre-game convo he went over to the bench and just sat there. He didn’t get up, he didn’t warm up, he didn’t fine out his touch, he didn’t even stretch. I look at my fellows and I say, “Boys, this should be a fun one, without Kent they ain’t got much.” Without getting too cocky, we started to feel a little rest-assured about our chances.

The ref comes and checks all of our cleats, and shin guards, and he checks the Dirty Dawgs cleats and shin guards, and still Kent remained on the sideline, on the bench, ready to support his team like any other fan. The last little pep talk from our coach, the starting line-ups announced, the pre-game butterflies, and then my teammates and I run to the field to take our positions. I get in my spot on the field, and look up at our opponent, see who I’m going to be running with for the next 30 or so minutes, and see that it’s Kenton. He’s up, he’s off the bench, and he’s ready to play. He and his dad had played us. He was fine, no cold, no nothing.

Ohio State better hope Beanie Wells does the same thing, or else they’re going to be hurting.