The South America blood in my son's veins always kicks in when he see's a round ball of any kind. He screams "Bolo, Bolo" and then he runs after the ball, doesn't matter if it is a floorball or a football, the football gene is activated in any case.
As Helsinki Football Cup is going on right now, it hit me today that I should enjoy the next 5 summers. Because I bet I will be standing by the field for the next 5-10 years after that, cheering on my own little player (or maybe even two players if the princess gets her mind of the ballet and out on the field when she starts school). But before that, we need to sort out the difference between football (soccer) and rugby (or American football) to our son.
Today G got to play with the big boys (3 year olds) in our playground. The guys were having a blast until G decided that the ball should be in his hands all the time. He set out to run from the big boys while they attacked him from behind. Touchdown! Such action. Haven't seen it since my high school year at the Friday (American) Football game in B'ham. G responded of course in his typical way when he gets upset. He threw himself on the ground and put on a "heartbreaking" scene of cries and tears. You see, he is not only fanatic of the football, he also knows how to fake a fault. I say we are dealing with the next big Finnish football star here. As said, as long as he understands that in Finnish football you kick the ball, you do not run away with it, especially not with a bunch of big guys behind you.
As my biggest fear for A is that once we let her start ballet classes she eventually will turn into a Black Swan, I might as well start worrying about the decadence of Maradona in the case of G. My own inherited worrying gene will keep me sleepless until the kids hit their 30's (or even later). And by that time my hormones will make sure I keep sleepless for the rest of my life. Once again, I ask myself why I am still voluntarily awake, when I have the possibility to sleep all through the night with no worries!