Saturday Soccer

I coach a soccer team of seven-year-olds. We are called the Purple Lightning, which the kids voted on, and we have not won a single game this season.

It does not matter even a little bit.

Last Saturday, a girl named Zoe, who usually spends games picking dandelions, suddenly got the ball and ran the entire length of the field. She didn't score. She kicked it wide by about ten feet. But when she turned around, both teams were cheering for her, parents on both sidelines were on their feet, and she was beaming like she had won the World Cup.

After the game, we had orange slices and juice boxes like always. Zoe told everyone the story of her run at least eleven times.

Grown-ups worry so much about winning. Kids know better. They play because running in the sunshine with your friends is fun. I've learned more about joy from Purple Lightning than from anyone else.