Kicks are for Trids, You Silly Wabbit...

Holy Son was dubbed the Josh Brown of indoor soccer today by one of his coaches.

He booted the soccer ball from his spot midfield, just behind the half-way line and managed to score the most amazing goal of the season. It was a film footage-worthy event but well...all the good schmidt, lollipop and visits to the candy shop moments happen when you leave your camera at home, don't they?

Oh well. I suspect he will have the moment permanently etched in the temporal lobe responsible for storing random heroic incidences.

They ended up still losing the game but that's OK. As he left the arena floating on a soccer cloud, it was apparent that he was preoccupied with formulating his acceptance speech for impending induction into the Soccer Hall of Fame.

"I'd like to thank the Soccer academy for making this all possible and oh yeah, my Mom, because she drove like a banshee today to get me to the game on time."

Yeah, I'm sure that's what he was thinking.

Kicks are for trids and melusional doms, you silly wabbit.


Jorge said...

Our children our wormholes into the future, strands of our DNA recombining in ways we never imagined. Be proud, mom - the moment will stay with both of you, woven into the tapestry of the Schmidt legend. Be well,

Lynn said...

WOO HOO Holy Son!!! My congrats to him! That kind of thing never, ever goes out of your memory. He's destined for so many, many great memories. What a blessing for you both.

Anonymous said...

And as you drove Holy Son home, the road was bathed in the golden light of the setting son and immersed in the voices of angelic choirs...

Enjoy those moments, Holy, and may you and Holy Son have many, many more!


Jungle Mama said...

Yea! I hope you both remember it even without the camera. Hey, at least you got him there on time ;) Cute! Love it!