Embrace the Game
10 lessons for the unqualified soccer parent
This year, my seven-year-old daughter made the transition to competitive soccer. Since I know next to nothing about this game, I’ve had quite a learning curve both in being a good spectator and in being a soccer mom. In case others find themselves in the same boat, I’ve compiled a list of ten lessons I’ve learned the hard way. Pay close attention.
Invest in Shade. You know those people at the fields with any imaginable type of umbrella or tent or make-shift shade? It’s not dumb. In fact, it’s very, very smart. You see, soccer fields by their nature require large areas of nothing but grass. Typically lacking at a complex is any sort of shade or vegetation. This makes for some brutally hot, sun-in-your-face, viewing experiences. Invest in a shaded chair asap. (Here’s one like mine. Stylish.) Put this chair in the back of your full-size SUV and don’t touch it. Take it out only for soccer. Nothing else.
Practice the Pregnant Pause When Cheering. It’s ok if you don’t understand the game yet. It’s ok to learn as you watch. However, always remember to take a deep breath before screaming during a sudden offensive run away. Why? A word that you’ll hear often: offside. If you are the only idiot screaming, you’ll know instantly that you’ve once again forgotten (or never figured out in the first place) how to spot this infraction. When this happens, cower down.
Always Allow for Extra Time. If you find yourself traveling to an unknown field, add no fewer than thirty minutes to the time that you *think* it will take you to get there. This is particularly important for the perpetually late individuals such as myself. You see, these fields all carry their own special parking challenges. You may find yourself parking a mile away with multiple chairs to carry. You may find yourself backing into a wooded area with no ability to retrieve said chairs the conventional way. Odds are, you will circle a crowded lot multiple times while feeling anxiety that makes you want to jump out of your own skin.
Once parked, the fields are rarely marked. “Field 2” means nothing without these markings. Some clubs, I suspect for extra laughs at opposing teams’ expense, even mis-mark fields. The last game my daughter played was at an unmarked field that was not even visible. You actually had to travel through a secret clearing of an otherwise wooded area. This is real. And if you’re running late, you’ll have to beg someone to respond to your desperate group message asking where to go. They will talk about you.
Choose your sideline neighbors carefully. Don’t know ‘em? Don’t sit by ‘em. Why not? Because they could be the super obnoxious parents. The ticking time bombs. Every team has them. All of a sudden, when a college-age referee is being screamed at for blowing calls, you will want to disappear. Then, you’ll go out of your way to be nice to the opposing team parents on the other side of you, for fear of the “guilt by association” factor. Avoid this. It’s painful. And it detracts from you watching your child.
Walk Away. Speaking of distractions, one of the most useful things I’ve done when I’m trying to focus on my daughter playing is to walk away. I mean physically get up and walk away from wherever you’re sitting. Don’t bring your phone; don’t be followed by your family. (If possible. Screen time comes in handy for this.) Just find a place of solitude that allows you to connect with the game and your child playing it.
Budget for many Chick-fil-A trips. Download the app. Have your order saved so you can grab lunch or dinner with one tap. You see, even if you aren’t necessarily a Chick-fil-A person, the soccer culture demands this of you. Your child will hear the other children talking about how they’re going to Chick-fil-A. Your child will beg you to go. Pretty soon, you’ll capitulate and you’ll realize that it’s easy and decent. And you’ll be going there a lot. You’ll be amazed at how quickly they can move a sea of full-size SUVs, even when they all appear at the exact same time (ten minutes after soccer ends, to be exact). If it were publicly traded, I’d be urging you to buy stock. Perhaps look into a franchise instead.
Radio Silence. We need to talk about your contributions to group conversations on the GotSport (or similar) app. No one cares. Ok, we’ve discussed. Moving on….
Understand the Social Setting and What Goes With It. In case you didn’t know, soccer fields are actually venues for massive social gatherings. You will see lots of parents from all areas of your life. Daycare, school, work, high school, the birthing room, etc. And your child sees countless friends. You must be prepared to socialize (even if introverted) and you must realize that attempted exits will be painful.
Prepare Your “Character Building” Message. When the first championship game is lost, there will be tears, even if you don’t expect them. Prepare a thoughtful message. Since I was unprepared, I stumbled here. I hugged her and told her how proud I was and that she needed to hold her head high and be a good sport. It worked out ok. Plus, those tears were wiped away when the team found out they still got finalist medals for coming in second.
Respect and embrace the game, even if you don’t necessarily understand it. Observe how far your child has come, from hard work to sportsmanship to coordination to skill. Be grateful she’s part of a team and you get to watch her playing a sport she enjoys. Most fervently, be sure to preserve the joy for your child, and for yourself.
What lessons have you learned from soccer or other youth sports? Share them with us in the comments!



Not a mom, but that comment about traveling through a secret clearing had Narnia/"Spare 'oon" vibes all over it. I think Azlan would've made a great soccer referee. LOL
This was laugh out loud funny! The Chick-fil-A budget is too real.