A Memoir of Sideline Warnings, Dust Clouds, and My Son’s Reluctant Sports Career
Summer 2025 — Field #3, Mostly Dirt
“Holden! No more dirt!”
The coach’s voice cut across the field. When I looked up, a huge cloud of dust hovered around Holden like a personal smoke machine — the result of him repeatedly kicking up dirt with his cleats instead of paying any attention to the game.
It was the last soccer game of the season. All the kids were lined up near the goal, waiting for a throw-in or… something. (I don’t know. I don’t understand sports.)
Meanwhile, my son was conducting a one-boy dust storm.
The coach barked again. Holden glanced over his shoulder, shrugged, and gave the dirt another good kick.
It reminded me of his T-ball days, rolling around in the outfield, tossing his hat in the air, fake falling for no reason while the coach shouted, “Get off the grass!” He was on the Yankees team. I’m not sure they ever won a game, but Holden definitely had fun losing.
He’s outgrown the fake falling this year, but now we get dust clouds and sideline warnings instead. A new season, a new set of antics.
And maybe that’s the part I love most. That even when he’s not really playing, he’s still in the game. Still showing up. Still finding his own fun.
He may not chase the ball.
But he never misses the experience.
This post is part of my One-Minute Memoir series — short reflections on small moments that still manage to say something big.
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