That’s Life: Soccer field has been source of valuable life lessons

This week I’m feeling a surreal sense of almost missing a seasonal angst. It’s soccer tryout time, and we aren’t rearranging schedules, considering commitments or wondering if the grass is actually greener at another team, another club.

After living and loving soccer since kindergarten and playing with some stellar athletes and friends, Ian hung up his cleats. Heading toward high school, he’s honing his interests. The two-sports-at-a-time schedule he had in middle school isn’t sustainable at the next educational level without something suffering.

Lest that be his grades, it was time to make a difficult choice between his extracurricular activities. He picked running on the trails and track over the grass and turf. For me the change is bittersweet, but Ian is all optimist.

When I asked him if it’s hard saying goodbye to competitive soccer, he shrugged off the suggestion.

“A good thing is ending,” he explained. “But something better is beginning.”

As kids should, he’s looking forward, envisioning the opportunities on the horizon.

And as moms often do, I’m taking a moment to remember and reflect.

In many ways, Ian grew up through this sport. The first year was mostly spent making friends and expending endless energy running back and forth after a ball. It also included playing with the flags that served as goal-posts, a mesmerizing midgame distraction even more interesting than the game-stopping planes that occasionally flew overhead.

That year, we spent a lot of time laughing at our little athletes running and tumbling after the ball like playful puppies until they learned to follow directions and work together, becoming true teammates.

Over the next eight years Ian’s athletic education continued through soccer, but he wasn’t just schooled in the skills and strategy of the beautiful game. He learned life lessons about human nature, self-control and how to treat people.

The self-disciplined, confident young man and loyal friend he is today was developed on the practice field and during long car rides and overnight stays for out-of-town games.

His ability to accept and incorporate feedback and his capacity to control his emotions came not only from the direct instruction of coaches and refs, but filtered through the families on the sidelines. Observation can be a truthful teacher and, in many ways, Ian learned how to be and how not to be. Sometimes from me.

As a parent, I learned just as much. I hope I grew as much. Sports have a way of putting things in perspective if you let them.

When our family went through a difficult time a few years ago, I remember sitting on the sidelines with a friend I’d made through soccer, sharing our stories. While our boys played, they were immersed in the moment of physical exertion. Any stress or worry they might have felt was replaced by the pure pleasure of dribbling, passing and shooting. And in that moment the things beyond their control lost power while they became strong.

For that, I’m deeply grateful. That’s when this game became beautiful to me, though you can find that kind of releasing, immersive magnificence in almost any extracurricular activity. Sports, music, art, dance and drama. We were meant to do, make, create and conceive.

These aren’t just frivolous pastimes to distract us from daily life. They’re worthy pursuits that give light and depth and beauty to life. Perhaps they shouldn’t be considered extracurricular at all, tacked on like afterthoughts at the end of the day. In many ways, sports and arts are core subjects.

Jill Barville writes twice a month about families, life and everything else. She can be reached at jbarville@msn.com.