Soccer Night Magic

When we lived in VA, Paris played rec soccer. He was only 4 and 5 at the time, and the games mainly consisted of him and his fellow teammates running the length of a soccer field, galloping and wheeling around the elusive white ball, just trying to get a kick in. They wore too-long soccer jerseys and soccer cleats so small they made you want to say "ahh".
One of the perks, though, was discounted tickets to DC United professional soccer games on Kids Day. Brian (of course) jumped on that and Paris and he had a Daddy-Son date. Of course, Paris didn't pay attention to the whole game, but he liked to cheer, and when he tired of that, he quickly charmed the kids around him. Paris has never met a stranger, and soon there was a clump of kids listening to his yarns and offering him trinkets (seriously, how does he get people to give him so many things?!). At half-time, they gathered the kids and let them go down on the soccer field and parade around. (This is where it was good Brian took him, and not me. I was shocked that Brian allowed his 5 year old to go down to the playing field by himself--I would have been half sick with worry that we would never re-unite. The thought apparently never crossed Brian's mind, and of course, everything worked out o.k.)
It was a magical night for both of them and a new tradition was born.
Of course, we put the practice on hold for a couple of years while we were in 'Bama, since there was no professional soccer close enough. But once we moved here, Brian asked Paris what he wanted to do for Daddy-Son date, and he immediately responded "Soccer game." Now, the practice has expanded to all of the kids.
Last Saturday was Apollo's first experience going to a professional game with Dad, and Brian couldn't help recollecting Paris' first game and looked forward to exposing his last child to the magic of Soccer Night. When Brian let the kids choose their games, Apollo had picked the Dynamos--(probably because it sounds like Dinos and thought they were going to get to see dinosaurs playing soccer.)They set off, each wearing matching Red Bulls T-shirts (I would've gotten pics but I was hauling compost to the garden...)
Yeah, Apollo's night wasn't so magical.
It's always tricky trying to gauge traffic to NY Stadium--and that night there happened not to be any. So they had eaten hot dogs and cotton candy before they even kicked off. (That may have been mistake #1). Then Apollo spied the Rowdy section and boy did they look like they were having a lot more fun than he was having. He tried to convince Dad to go sit with the Rowdies--"look Dad, we have Red Bulls shirts on"--and Brian tried to explain what seating assignmets were.
During half-time, some older kids played a quick game on the field. Apollo tried to convince Dad that he should get to go play too--"look Dad, I have a Red Bulls shirt on"--(that shirt had to be good for something, right?)--and Brian tried to explain that not everyone gets to play.
Soon after, Apollo gave up and insisted on going home. The score was tied, and neither team seemed concerned about scoring again, so Brian conceded and they gathered their stuff up and headed out of the stadium--where Apollo immediately burst into tears as he seemed to suddenly realize that the game wasn't over, saying he was sorry and wanted to go back and watch the game.
Completely bewildered, Brian took him back in and they watched the clock wind down.
Apparently it was still a good experience: as we watched the kids play outside on a perfect Sunday evening, Apollo dragged out the soccer net and his soccer ball. He makes all of his goals by dribbling the ball til it is in front of the net and then slide-kicking the ball to score. I'm not sure I will ever get the grass stains out of those pants, but it sure looked cool.