I always predicted Cheyenne would be a natural athlete.  But last week’s soccer game, the first one of the season, seemed to prove me wrong.  All the girls just crowded around the ball sluggishly taking turns kicking each others ankles and giggling.  Cheyenne was no exception.  She seemed pretty uninterested in the whole affair.

This week’s game started out the same.  Cheyenne was a starter and, after 4 minutes of unfocused play, the starters were traded out for the next four girls.  It was at this point that I pulled Cheyenne aside and said to her, “Cheyenne, do you know why I think you’re going to be an amazing soccer player?”  She shook her head no.  “Because in soccer,” I said, “You don’t have to wait for your turn.  It’s always your turn.” 

I had her undivided attention. 

“You don’t have to be polite.  You don’t have to slow down and wait for others.  You can go as fast as you possibly can.  If someone else has the ball, you don’t have to wait for them to kick it.  You can cut in with all your strength and take it from them.”  Cheyenne’s eyes were on fire and a slow smile started to spread across her face.  I went on animatedly, “If all the girls are crowded around the ball and you can’t reach it, you just push through them with your shoulder and kick that ball as far away from them as you can.  If one of your teammates has the ball, you run out in front of her so she can kick it to you.  If the other team has the ball, you take it back.  You don’t have to share it at all.  THAT BALL IS YOURS AND NO ONE CAN TAKE IT FROM YOU.”

By this time Cheyenne was openly, impishly giggling.  I practiced the shoulder push with her until it was her turn to play again.  Then she charged onto the field.  She was a different player!  She never once took her eyes off that ball.  When the other team got the ball, Cheyenne darted in front of her and just nailed it in the other direction.  All the parents were coming up to me saying, “Have you been practicing with Cheyenne a lot this week?”  “What on earth did you feed her for breakfast this morning?”  I just smiled and said, “It must have been all the candy from her pinata last night.”

Toward the end of the game, you’d have thought you were watching a one-man football game.  When those girls clustered around that ball, Cheyenne charged through them like bowling pins and whisked it away.  Our team’s parents were all laughing and cheering delightedly.  I think this is the beginning of a most illustrious sporting career.