It's not supposed to happen like this! Usually, the way it happens is that someone taps me on the shoulder and says: "Hi Coach! Remember me?" Nowadays, it is usually a young man or young lady in their late teens who often towers over me. I seldom remember their names but I always remember their faces. Most of the time, I can identify their unfledged features in their maturing bodies. I can always redeem my awful memory for names with a funny anecdote about our times together on the Soccer fields. Usually, some chit-chat ensues and I learn about their current lives and maybe their new sports.
Youth Soccer is very competitive in Southern California; Most of the kids never make it into their High School Soccer Teams or loose interest in Soccer altogether after they get to High School. I don't dwell on this fact. I have two teenagers at home that have not kicked a Soccer ball in years. But they now have other passions: Lacrosse, Water Polo, Surfing, etc.. You adjust; You play catch with your son while you glove an old mitt and he uses a Lacrosse stick; You show up for the beginning of the Water-polo season, father-son game and try not to drown. You ask questions about the new twin-fins and the swells at Trestles. You find new things do to together or you just simply show up at their games and cheer. But not too loudly because they don't want you to embarrass them.
I think that for all those kids that played Soccer when they were younger, it often turns out that is the one sports experience that they seem grateful for; They played sports for a real Team. They dressed up in neat uniforms. They were cheered every Saturday by their parents even if there was not much to cheer about. At the end of the season, they always got medals and sometimes a nice trophy. They always got pizza and party favors. They were heroes! That all changed when they got to High School!
The way it happened this time is that I recognized his name in a newspaper article describing a horrible car accident that happened just a mile from my current residence. I'd heard the police helicopter and emergency vehicles when it happened. I saw all the people in grief who visited the accident site over several days and set up a temporary shrine to a young life disintegrated in a fraction of a second. That made me curious and I wanted to know the whole story. That is when I recognized the name of the dead young man!
Parees Ghassemian was not a great Soccer player but he gave me other reasons to remember him. He had good foot skills and a powerful kick but at the time, he was a little overweight and that always hampered his game. I remembered his name because he was one of those kids who really wanted to be a great Soccer player. Always trying new skills and asking questions from Coach. Staying after practice just to play a few extra minutes. Always demanding more challenges even if we both knew that he would have a hard time scoring against a better opponent. Always being the type of kid that makes a Youth Soccer Coach forget all the disappointments. Always trying! Always playing! Parees loved the game! I dare say Parees loved life!
