Another adventure survived a la Team Mojo!
A bunch of my son’s soccer teammates branch off each winter in the off season to play indoor soccer up in Williamsburg. Up there they play 5v5 style of soccer–no goalie, everyone scores, quick halves, lotsa playing time, everybody’s happy. A subset of that team competed in 3v3 regionals up in Lancaster, PA which sent them them for the National tournament in sunny overcast Orlando, The Happiest Place On Earth.
On a hot tip from another parent, I purchased deliciously cheap tickets from
How cute is their new logo? With the heart. Good call, Southwest. I salute you.
Day one of play was a complete success. We won both games and were coming out on top in our pool of play. Out of 21 teams in the U14 division, we were on our way to the quarter finals.
Sunday morning came quick and we were up before the sun with a devotional in the Suburban on using every tool God gives us (armor). Ephesians 6:10 With some good energy and prayers behind us, we arrived to the field to meet our sick team member who had been up all night with situations I won’t discuss and you won’t want to know about. He still gave a great effort, as did the “well” boys and we came out with another victory. Next it was on to Quiznos where One Mom found a penny, offered it to another Mom saying “Penny for your thoughts” to which Mom Two quickly responded “NICKEL FOR YOUR WHOLE BRAIN!” followed by exstatic clapping and the joyful admission, “I’ve been waiting so long to say that to somebody!!!!”
Back to the fields for game 4 and yet another victory. Our boys were playing clean and crisp.
The group (sans sick player & family) discovered the joys of a 4:00 dinner at Olive Garden–no crowd, lots of time, and we just enjoyed one another’s company and an early bedtime.
Monday is when things turned around. We arrived to the chilly fields without stress for the 9:00 quarter-final game which we promptly lost to a team with finesse–Euroselect–which (spoiler alert) went on to win the whole darn thing. So there’s that.
Well, somewhere along the line, we got our lions crossed and neglected to notice there was a loser’s bracket which guaranteed us a 2nd Monday game for 5th-8th place. Sadly unaware, 3 parents, 3 players, 1 sibling and the Coach packed up the Suburban and hit the road back to Virginia around 9:45.
My Boy and the Sick Boy milled around, shopping, chatting, socializing with other parents until lo & behold we seperately discover through sideline conversations about 10:45 that there’s an 11:00 game and WE’RE IN IT.
“Mayday mayday! Get your Mojo butts back here!”
Elation ensued in the Suburban, but only too brief as the news set in that the two remaining players were currently taking the field with no way of delaying the game for the hour it would take the car to get back to Happy Town.
With the adrenaline rush only known to young teenage boys who consider themselves invincible, the two took the field versus the Sick Boy’s former teammates. Oh, the irony.
My boy popped one in right from the whistle and left the Weston, FL boys bewildered. “Surely we’re not going to lose to these two?” Surely, they did not. Meanwhile, on the sidelines Sick Boy’s dad turns to me and realizes outloud “Oh…wow. I guess that makes us the coaches,” to which I pause my flip video and respond, “Oh, yikes. What are we supposed to be saying?”
After about 7 minutes of constant running, shooting, blocking and retrieving both Mojo boys were sucking wind and hollering at us, “How much longer until they get here?”
They’re not coming.
Oh, the heavy, heavy realization of 5th-7th place slipping out of your grasp with no breather in sight.
So they played for the joy of the game, the opposing players passed the ball around to give them a moment every now & then and the opposing parents cheered them on.
I’ve never been so thankful for the mercy rule and neither have those two boys. 12-2 final.
The Pennsylvania coach of the team that bested our victors told our boys of their effort, “THAT is the definition of ‘Mojo.’
I couldn’t agree more.