Avoiding the Drop

I bet Brad Friedel loves that his hometown adopted Liverpool's slogan for their crest.

Bay Village, Ohio is pretty much the definition of a middle class suburb. We have lots of trees, no free standing fast food restaurants (as per city zoning laws), and no real shopping centers. There’s a drugstore and a grocery store, but outside of that we’re almost entirely residential; we have a good school system, and supposedly once went an entire year where the police only arrested four people. Not a lot happens here in Bay.

The same can be said for most of our local athletics; even though we’ve produced a couple of athletes (Browns punter Dave Zastudil and Aston Villa keeper Brad Friedel), there isn’t really much that Bay Village has going for it; the city’s a bit smaller than the other cities in it’s conference, and has struggled occasionally when it comes to fielding a consistently high quality football or basketball team.

And then there’s the Bay High School girl’s soccer team, which is simply awesome.

They’ve won state three times; only three schools in the state have won more (and all three of those schools are only one better than Bay, with four state championships). They’re organized, and the soccer development programs in the city are great at turning out top talent for the high school squad.

When we first moved here, I was well aware of the soccer traditions in the city. Having two girls myself, I’d assumed that they’d both get into soccer; it’s just part of the natural “rite of passage” in Bay Village. Sadly, I can already see personalities forming and can understand that soccer is just not the sport for my oldest.

My three year old, however, loves it. She loves to kick a ball, and she loves to watch on TV; last year, after I fell asleep watching an Inter match, she was the one who woke me up to tell me that Ibrahimović had scored. She already knows not to kick with her toes, even if she hasn’t quite mastered the part about not touching the ball with your hands.

In Ohio, the same high school season that seemed never-ending when I was playing is in actuality  about two months long. Coaches can first practice on August 10th, and the playoff draw is in the beginning of October. My grand plan this season was to take my youngest to a couple of games; unfortunately, that never materialized.

However, tonight at 7:00 the Bay Village girls team will kick off against our southerly neighbors North Olmsted, and my daughter and I have a date to attend her first soccer game (or at least the first half; there are bedtimes to consider). I wrote a post about the concentration of soccer teams in England as it compares to us stateside a few months back, proposing the theory that one of the reasons soccer’s so popular in England is that there’s one team for every 66 square miles. It’s easy to follow a local side when there are so many to pick from.

If that’s true, then high school sports are the U.S. equivalent of a lower-league match; they’re the local team that everyone in the city can agree on. Sure, you’re swapping out seats for bleachers and gourmet hot dogs for slightly cold popcorn; in return, however, you’re instilling the love of a both a sport and a community in your child, and that’s a good trade any day.