Like Son, Like Father

Yesterday, Max and I went to the park that is a couple of blocks away to kick a soccer ball around.  Calling it a "park" might be a little generous, although it has a couple of old slides, swings, and monkey bars.  (All it really lacks is a "Curb your dog" sign.)  And of course there is a place to play soccer.  It is a fenced-in, concrete field with goals that double as basketball hoops.

Park near our house

I secretly hoped there would be kids playing soccer so Max could join them and I could watch.  Instead a group of men was arriving just as we arrived.  There were no other kids.  Uh oh.  They gestured for me to join the game.  I asked if Max could play too, and they said sure.  Two hours of midday soccer followed.  6 on 6, 4 on 4, whatever.  I'm pretty sure they took it easy on me and Max.  They definitely enjoyed it whenever he would make a move or steal the ball from someone.  They called Max "Pele" whenever he scored.  He probably wishes he had worn his hair gel, so they might have called him Ronaldo, or more likely, Ronaldito.

Ronaldo

Ronaldito

Once I got over my own fear of passing out from all the running and the heat, I had a blast too.  Max says I made a lot of mistakes, but I added a few G's to the scoring column for our various teams.  I would have been even better if I had ascertained earlier that were no "offsides" in this game.  Here's a picture.  Max is wearing the black long-sleeved shirt (yes, he's a little crazy).  I'm wearing the white short-sleeved shirt.