The Impossible Dream: Part 1

Australia is a country where its young people are encouraged to be whatever they want to be. They are told they can become whatever they want to become and to do whatever they want to do with their lives. Their freedom is to be cherished and they should take responsibility for their own decisions and actions. They are told to dream, make a commitment and then work hard.

The Impossible Dream tells the story of my son, nicknamed, Spud, who is introduced to soccer at the age of 6 and who dreams of playing soccer as his job. His soccer can only be at amateur level as our family was on a middle-class income which made his dream difficult. His tenacious attitude stayed with him until adulthood where he realised his dream in the most unlikely place.

This story is the true story of my thirty-five year-old son, Todd, who is now married with two young daughters.

The Impossible Dream

“We play at home next Saturday!” called Spud, slumping through the front door after his Under 6 team’s soccer training. He handed a newsletter to his mother, “What’s for dinner?”

“Wash your hands, the meal will be on the table in a moment,” Spud’s mother responded without looking up. She was scanning the newsletter for mention of her son in the ‘game report’ of the previous weekend. “It says here, that the club expects fair play at all times. Pity some of those club officials don’t heed their own words!” Spud’s mother spat. “Spud played so well last week, yet there’s no mention of his effort.”

“Now dear, be reasonable. They are only five and six year-olds and the coach has to give them all a turn of mention in his reports. It must be difficult to select one boy’s performance when all the little kids run around the field in a tight clump, like a swarm of bees,” said Spud’s father.

“I have to be goalie next week,” a miserable Spud informed his parents joining them at the dinner table. “I hate standing in the net and watching the others have fun.”

“You’re good at saving goals. Some of the other boys are too timid to fall on the ball in case they get a kick. You’re tough and don’t let the ball get past you and into the net.”

“But…”

“No buts, you’ve always been told, to try your best. Your father and I expect you to do whatever it takes to stay on the team.”

“Are you coming next week, Mum?”

“Yes, why?”

“It’s just that you always get so excited and call me from the sideline, to run faster and kick the ball and stuff. So if I’m in goals, you won’t be able to do that.”

“I’m sure your mother will find something to call out about, son.” Spud’s father couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease his mother about her parental antics.

“I just like encouraging him.” Spud’s mother defended herself.

“Maybe, but when he hears you call, he looks around and then misses the ball. So you are in effect, being a hindrance to the team’s chances of winning.”

“Dad, coach says it is not whether we win or lose, but that we enjoy ourselves.”

“Well he is correct.”

“Then why do I have to be goalie, when I won’t enjoy myself?”

“Spud, sometimes there are questions in this world, that just don’t have answers.”

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“Dad, why have we got girls on our team?” was another such question that Spud’s father found difficult to answer the twelve-year old Spud when he was selected in the club’s top team in his age group a few years later.

“Well, mate the selectors pick the best team of soccer players and some of those girls are pretty swift chasing that ball. Instead of being upset, team up with them and they will sprint along that wing then pass the ball in to have it popped straight into the net. Afterall, that’s what you like doing best isn’t it?”

“Mmm. But they’ll hog the ball?”

“No, they won’t. They’ll want the goal scored for the team. Make sure you’re the best striker, always watch your offside and the coach will select you there.”

“There’s something weird about girls, though Dad.”

“What’s that, Spud?”

“I heard them telling each other that they shave their legs, before putting on their shin pads and long socks. Strange…”

“Son, a bit of advice, never try to understand women.”

Continue to The Impossible Dream: Part 2

Colleen, Lakewood, New South Wales

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