The rain seemed to love soccer practice this season. Becky's grandma didn't mind the damp air or the muddy grass. She wanted to be there to see her granddaughter grow each week with more maturity and grace. It was a pleasure for her tired eyes to watch. At games, everyone knew where Becky's grandma was sitting. She knew how to cheer the loudest.
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The rain seemed to love soccer practice this season. Becky's grandma didn't mind the damp air or the muddy grass. She wanted to be there to see her granddaughter grow each week with more maturity and grace. It was a pleasure for her tired eyes to watch. At games, everyone knew where Becky's grandma was sitting. She knew how to cheer the loudest.
The raindrops tapped away a the waterproof fabric of my umbrella above my head as I sat in a lawn chair with my arms wrapped tightly around myself to keep a little warmer. It didn't seem to be helping much. The breeze would pick up once in a while and brush my hair back away from my neck, prickling my skin with goosebumps. My nose began to sting and I pushed in on it with my fingertip to get the circulation going.
The blurt of the whistle startled me and I looked up as the players gathered in a huddle a few feet away to listen to their couch. My husband's lucky hat, a bright blue baseball cap with ear-flaps that he wore at every game, poked up out of the center of crowd of blue jerseys and bobbed up and down in excitement as he pepped-talked his shivering players.
We were losing by two. I pulled the top edges of my jacket up by my chin as another burst of wind lifted my hair away from my neck and wondered why the heck they hadn't rescheduled the game. The grass was wet and the girls were drenched from slipping. It would be no surprise to me if everyone was sick at home for a week after this game.
A rumble shook the sky overhead and I closed my eyes for an instant in a silent plea to whoever controls the weather for the clouds to part and let the sun shine if only for a moment.
The rain continued it's tap-dance on my umbrella as I looked at my watch. We'd been playing out here for just over an hour and the game should be over soon. Please let it be soon.
"Hey!" a friendly female voice shouted from my left and I looked up. "You want one?"
The woman next to me was holding out a foam cup of what I guessed was hot cocoa. Her eyes were bright with excitement under her even brighter pink plastic hood. I noticed her fingernails were also painted a bright pink when I took the warm cup from out of her hands.
"Thanks." I said politely, raising the steaming beverage to my lips. The hot cocoa was just what I needed to feel more comfortable. Maybe I should have thought of that.
"You're welcome!" She said. "It's a great day to be playing soccer!" She added with a grin and strolled away back toward the crowd of pink behind her.
I looked back over my shoulder to the mingling group of blue fans, mostly parents, and sighed. "That's team spirit." I said to myself. I shook my head as the whistle echoed in the field again.
The goal was made with the last little sprinkle drop onto my umbrella. It would be a long night. After the game, she waited to see her father..but he wasn't coming. He was out again. Out with the boys, trying to hold strong to the days of youth when drinking and laughs were what it was all about.
Little did he know that these are the days that he'll miss more than any other.
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