article 7. What they don't show you in those soccer commercials...

BECAUSE I SAID SO
By BOOTS MA. GARCIA-SISON

Soccer is one of the most glamorized sports on TV, on ads and more so, in the movies. We have Beckham and company to thank for that, and way before them, there was Pele, who was actually a god amongst ordinary mortals. Pele reinvented soccer. He defied gravity way before even the term Air Jordan was coined. He could leap into midair, flip and twist and kick, delivering the “scissor” flawlessly ---a kick that my eleven year-old son gushes about and wishes he can already execute. I must admit I dread the day.

But he’s working at it. Has been since day one. For the fifth year running, my son has enrolled in soccer summer camp. During the school year, he juggles schoolwork and soccer varsity and a million other chores and projects. But still, after a long, hard year , when summer comes, instead of looking forward to long , lazy days of doing nothing, he lives for the day when summer soccer camp begins. And to top it--- as if waking up at 5am for training every morning from this day forward until the end of April is not enough --- he had to enroll in another soccer school too, so that his Wednesday and Friday afternoons are also spent playing his most favorite game. Two soccer camps --- ergo , twice the torture, twice the sacrifice, twice the pressure ---on us , his parents ( but then, on my son’s part, soccer can never be torture, sacrifice or pressure--- to him, playing soccer is pure joy).

But that brings me to my point. That’s what they don’t show you in those glamorous soccer commercials! During every young athlete’s training day, which always starts at unholy hours in the morning --- right there on the sidelines are his first true fans : his parents. They look sleep –deprived and harassed and even sweatier than the players, and some of them don’t even look like they can throw a ball even if their lives depended on it, but hey, they’re there. Everyday. Not just during the actual competition when it’s time to bring home the trophy.
That’s the easy part. It’s the everyday that ‘s harder, for that is definitely seven times the commitment.

And I have totally seen very committed parents.
Whether they are parents who may be living their own soccer dreams through their sons (like my husband)…or they are parents who may be imagining already the fame that their sons would have in the near future ( like myself), and even if these are the very same parents who maybe just a few hours earlier were praying for a miracle that would make their son change their minds about enrolling in soccer – again (like my husband and I) , these parents never waver in their commitment. As they gave in to the relentless cajoling, whining , pleading and bargaining that only a very determined young soccer player can unleash, knowingly they gave up hopes of ever having late morning breakfasts in bed again , or even of just sleeping in, or having a relaxed drive to work in the morning. It means rearranging your schedules like your meetings and your lunches ,it means even postponing your own birthdays and anniversaries in case a game falls on the same day. You moan and you complain ---for you definitely had your own ideas on how to spend your summer ---but still, there you are in the bleachers in front of the soccer field smiling at the sight of your kid, everyday.

One of us should always be there to drop him off , and another one should pick him up on time. We have to keep track of orientations, festivals, extra practices, socials, etc.etc. It means straining the budget if need be, so that there will be enough to spare for soccer shoes, socks, goalie gloves, shin guards. For alongside the commitment is the sacrifice.

You’re a soccer mom and dad. Accept it, deal with it.

Believe me, you don’t want to miss a minute of it. You just have to be there. To see him kick a goal ( or…not) …to see him make the slide that steals the ball ( or… not)…for you to see the moment when he catches the kick that wins his team the game (--- or not).

Win or lose , you should be there. Show up. That’s the role of the parent : to show up , cheer and root and yell yourself hoarse. You should closely watch your son and memorize every move he makes, whether a good one or a decidedly wrong one. Because right after the game, believe me, he will ask if you saw him do this and that and that and this and you better be able to say yes, of course: I had my eyes on you.

Think of the Tiger Woods and his dad. He started his son early. Think of Michael Jordan and his old man. What age did their dads and moms stop being just plain parents and added groupie to their job descriptions?

We’ve been my son’s soccer groupies for the last 5 years.
And we’ve been together with other parents with soccer playing sons like ours all these years.

We’ve relished the rewards together. And I’m not just talking about the times I saw my own son made a goal kick successfully. Twice.( My hair all stood at their ends). Or the time our soccer players valiantly rallied and finally won. And more so, the times when they left the field heartbroken for coming so close to winning , but not close enough.

The reward also comes in the realization that it is easy enough for kids to enjoy soccer, or any game for that matter. They only need an adult who cares enough to let them play. And I was privileged to have my realization confirmed when a group of soccer players from Tondo started coming to our school.

It just so happens that some of our coaches share their time with these kids by coaching them in soccer. So even if
during the week, a good number of these Tondo kids pick up trash, sell plastic bags, run after jeeps and buses perhaps to sell cigarettes and newspapers, still one day a week, these coaches bring them over… and they play their hearts out.

Sometimes they win and sometimes they lose. Some of them are really skilled. Which is food for thought already, because they can’t have enough time for practice. And it’s really harder to play when you don’t have the gear. Plus when you’re worrying that the time you spend playing can be spent somewhere else , like at work.

But still. On the days they came to play, at that exact moment, the game is all theirs. Win or lose, they live for the game. And guess who’s right at the bleachers in front of them, rooting and yelling themselves hoarse.

Their own parents.

Which shows you that there’s not much diff between their parents and my own circle of soccer moms and dads. Admittedly, the Tondo kids far outnumber their parents who attend their games. They have fewer parents who can really spare time to go with the kids all the way to our school. But what matters is that still, the few mothers and the one or two fathers, plus their coaches who came with them are precisely there to enable the kids to play. These adults, parents all---they showed up, and they let the kids play.

In Victor Hugo’s great book, Les Miserables, Jean Valjean paid the Thernadiers gold to let Cosette play. And while she played , he stayed by her and watched her. As a true parent does. As these parents of Tondo do. As we do, too.

That is definitely something that should figure one day in a great commercial.




BOOTS MA. GARCIA-SISON has been an Advertising Creative Director for almost two decades. It was her son Anton, an eleven year old budding copywriter and commercial talent , who thought of her column’s name.