I finally found a soccer camp for the boys to participate in during their 2 week school holiday. I think I was more excited than them. I LOVE watching my kids play soccer. Morgan can kick the ball from one end of the field to the other with little effort and Ewan moves like a mini Ronaldo, swerving and dribbling around the competition. It is just one of those things that makes them really happy and me insanely happy. When we arrived here it was the middle of winter so we missed soccer altogether so when the opportunity presented itself for even just a week of soccer, we pounced. The $160.00 fee was a bit steep but they supposedly had a Brazilian coach lined up so it was well worth it.
Lets just say that the boys got a bit more than they bargained for. I got a call from Morgan (14) during the lunch break just 2 hours into the training asking to be picked up. I could hear Ewan in the background saying "me too". What? I've seen Ewan play soccer in the rain, snow, lightening, while bleeding, and while repeatedly being pummeled by a bigger team and he NEVER quits. Ever. I had to know what horrible situation could persuade them to throw in the towel. "Mom, the kids are being very inappropriate and the coach barely speaks English so he has no idea what they are saying". Ok, Morgan is a teenager, he hears questionable language every day at school, and these kids made even him blush. Plus, he is very tall for his age, hovering just shy of 6 feet tall and for some reason, the smaller kids thought they had to prove something to each other by attempting to punch him in the face. Of course they didn't succeed and Morgan would never retaliate when smaller kids (smaller but not younger) are involved but it was really annoying. I don't know if it was because he was American or just larger or perhaps both but whatever the reason doesn't matter, it spoiled the experience.
As we were leaving the soccer field I could hear the cursing in kiwi accents and when the coach turned his back to pick up the 100th ball to be "accidentally" kicked into the woods, I saw a boy who couldn't have been older than 11 pick up a big orange cone, hold it up to his groin, and........well, you can imagine the rest.
Bummer, I was really looking forward to watching some soccer.