Who says fretting and worrying (and lots of bitching) don't pay off in the long run?
We found out while we were in Tahoe for a (nearly) snow-less ski week that Youngest made the U-12 soccer team. He is extremely happy. He had been experiencing a tearful couple of weeks as we tried to get him to accept that playing up a year was his only option to play competitive soccer locally.
Pete and I are happy, too, of course, since it means we don't have to take our ball and go play somewhere else. No need to test our wherewithal to stay true to our stance that if he didn't make that team, we'd travel several times a week to the town north of us for practices in order to get Youngest on an age-appropriate team where he (and his parents) would presumably be welcomed.
So Youngest and family are back with the coach of the year. Hooray! And Youngest is back with some really good players who will keep Youngest on his toes. And we are with some truly excellent and welcoming parents who seem to really buy into the concept that good sportsmanship is as important as kicking competitors' asses.
I appreciate that those within the league made it possible for Youngest to play a year up. Is he as good as most of the players in that age group? Yes, but you could make the argument that he should be playing with his own age group, where the players are more his size and some are as good or better than him. And you could also make the argument that there were enough good players trying out for the U-12 team to field a full contingent within that age group. Both those arguments are valid and would have been enough to keep Youngest off the U-12 squad.
My thanks, then, to those who believed that sometimes the right thing to do is only written in the margins of the rule book.
Now, let's go play futbol! And spend lots of money doing so! And loads of time, too! Aack.