His Athlete

My husband is like most fathers of sons.  He dreams, not so secretly, of watching his children excel at sports.  He imagines the pride he will feel as they run down the field and win the game and then turn and point to their old man up in the stands.  He was an athlete and wishes for the same thing for our children.

Yesterday I watched that common dream become a reality for the man I love.  We were on the sideline at the final soccer game of the season.  Our child took the field with only 5 minutes left in the game and the score tied.  The other team kicked off right toward our baby.  My husband whooped as his kid stole the ball and kicked the winning goal.  In less than 3 minutes, he was screaming “Go! Go!” as she scored again.

The whistle blew and our rock-star athlete bounded off the field and grinned at her delighted father.  Here was the hoped for progeny, the daydream made real, standing right before him.  As she stood there in her hot pink jersey and polka-dot shin-guards, I just grinned.  What a fortunate man he is to get to see his dream come true.  What a wise man he is to see it when the killer instinct wears pink and sports a pony tail.