My youngest daughter, Andrea, was a soccer player. She got a late start at the game, first playing in high school, and only then because she wanted a spring sport but didn't want to run track. Her position was goal keeper, a spot no one else wanted. But she was a dandy keeper and even ended up getting a scholarship for college based on her soccer involvement. Our little Andie did quite well on the college level, too.

Our oldest grandson, Bubby, is now a soccer player, starting at a far younger age than his Aunt Andie. The week he, Baby Mac, and Megan visited in October was the week of his first soccer practice. So he missed his very first official instruction. Andrea, being the sole soccer player on either side of Bubby's extended family, gave him a few preliminary pointers while he was here so he'd be ready to roll once he returned home.

At three years old, being ready to roll...or pass or dribble or kick the ball into the goal is, understandably, a foreign concept. Right up there with not being able to touch the ball with your hands in the game of soccer...unless you're throwing it in from the side to your teammates whenever the confusing gameplay requires such.

Bubby's giving it the ol' college, er, toddler try, though, and Jim and I were fortunate to attend one of his soccer games during our recent visit. Here's a sampling of the action (Bubby's in the hood):

Like I said, it's a confusing game, especially for toddlers, I think. Even more confusing when you're the tiniest (probably youngest, too) peanut on the team. He'll get it though, I'm sure. He's off to a good start.

 

 

The best part—at least to Bubby, I think—is when the game is done and it's time to collect snacks to replenish after the hard work of playing.

Did Bubby and his teammates win the game Jim and I saw? I honestly couldn't tell ya. Soccer's a confusing game—especially when you're a three-year-old...or the grandma who had eyes only for that three-year-old out on the field.

Today's question:

What is your favorite sport to watch?