A goalie is an entirely other story. It requires high muscle tone - a trait he doesn't possess. It requires lots of cash for the equipment and a thick skin to listen to the criticism of the spectators - traits his parents don't possess.
So we told him how he needed to really learn the game by playing for a few seasons. He complied, but he still wanted to be a goalie and we still had our concerns. What we didn't want was for our Miracle Boy to put himself in a situation where he would be on the fast track to failure.
And that is why we convinced him to play soccer for three seasons. Our little side trip into the land of less equipment was quite successful. Our boy played well and, when in goal, made a lot of saves. We congratulated ourselves on our clever detouring of his desires and our skillful parenting in helping him discover what he really should be doing.
But that hockey desire never faded. Our boy never begged, but stayed consistent in his dream of being a roller hockey goalie.
This summer we spelled some of it out for him:
- he had no experience as a goalie (but even as we said this, we saw the ad for goalie camp,)
- equipment is really expensive (but we discovered that the league loans it for free,)
- the other players would be soooooo much more experienced (but our league allows new goalies to play down one age group.)
So there we were - busted. And there Miracle Boy was with his dream.
Last Saturday, he suited up for his first official game.
He was so nervous he said he was "tingling."
Checkered was so nervous that he was biting his cheek and twitching his head:
And I? The perfect picture of calmness and serenity... until ....
...until my boy started making saves and getting up from the floor in a timely manner and until ...
I kept my composure until the person in front of me said about my boy,
"They've got a good goalie down there."
That is when I became a misty-eyed, blubbering mom.
And by the way, Miracle Boy's team won.
Just one more precious memory tucked away in this mom's heart.