
We signed Abra up for soccer, her first experience with an organized(?) team sport. Her team is the Storm and her colors are yellow and black. (If I was naming a team of young children, I'd name them something really scary, like "The Whine" or "The Tantrum" -- FEAR THE TANTRUM! -- but that's just me...).
Today was her first soccer game -- her first practice, for that matter. Now for her first game, you'd like good weather. A nice spring day, warm, sunny, lush green grash, a slight breeze.... Uh, no. We had mid 40's, rain, wind, and here's what the field looked like:

Uh oh. But Abra was a gamer and was ready to go. We started with an introduction by the coaches, and then "footwork drills", which consisted of Abra showing off her running-like-a-girl skills.

After the drills, it was time for the much awaited game against the Comets. Abra played much of the game at right wing, and seemed to enjoy much of the first half. As you might imagine in a soccer game involving kindergarteners, there was basically a swarm of kids chasing the ball all the time:

There was some serious kicking going on in those scrums -- my shins hurt just watching it. And there was a good number of parents and coaches yelling "No, no! Kick the ball
that way!" But the kids seemed to have fun.
Meanwhile, with no refs to yell at, Brenna had to content herself with hassling the coach, who is clearly throwing his hands up and begging
"Lord, please save me from these soccer moms!".

(Heh, in seriousness, of course, she was not hassling him at all. I think she was sweet talking him to get Abra more playing time....)
Shortly after halftime, the inevitable happened, and Abra pulled a full gainer into a mud puddle.

The game turned a little less fun for her after that. It was cold and wet, and she was soaked and muddy. But she played on. Although I did her her ask her coach a few times "When is the game going to end?" and "Can I go out now?" The coach, to his credit, didn't immediately pull her when she asked, and so she kept plugging away and did fine. She did take a few moments now and again to assess just how muddy she had become...

She got a bit of a break from mud-running when she took her turn at goalie, and she made two saves. ("Saves" may be a generous term, admittedly, I think since both times the ball was just stuck in a mud puddle in front of the net and nobody wanted to kick it because it was so muddy...)

The gamed ended with a score of, um, well, I'm not sure anyone really knew, but the coaches agreed it was a tie. It might have been something like 2-2, I'm guessing. After the game, we had the traditional "juice boxes and cheez-its", and bless her little heart -- Abra made a special effort to make sure to ask for two of each, since her little sister had been a trouper throughout (even though she had fallen into a mud puddle of her own) and was standing nearby with no snack of her own....

So she did great. We got home, dumped everyone's clothes into the washing machine and tossed both girls into a hot bath.
Oh, and the best part? Abra's jersey number? Number 10. The same as the great Pele. See the resemblance?

And now that she's cleaned up and been fed, off she goes to her tap dance lesson. Now can Pele do
that??