Battle of the brothers
It’s spring in Tennessee, and in addition to the blooming wildflowers, near weekly severe weather threats, and warming temperatures, that means school soccer for my boys. Soccer is the first thing I started shooting seriously. Nothing like jumping straight into the fire! But since this is my oldest’s senior year, I’ve decided not to shoot as many games as I have in past years, and focus mainly on being his mom and cheering from the stands.
Even so, there are some games that just warrant documenting.
One such game was Smyrna vs Central. You see, I have a boy on each team, and this year is the only year they’ll ever have the chance to go head-to-head on the field. We’ve been talking about this match-up since last spring. What a unique experience for two brothers to take the game out of the front yard and into actual competition.
When rosters came out in February, we were afraid it might not happen. Despite a summer and fall of intense workouts, Paul, only a sophomore, was rostered on JV for Central Magnet. And Jackson was a captain on the Smyrna varsity team. So, would our longed for brother vs brother match happen after all?
It took some behind the scenes work from a friend and coach, and while Paul wasn’t able to play a few minutes of varsity, Jackson’s coach was more than happy for him to play a few minutes of the JV game. The field was set.
With eight left in the second half, Jackson stepped out onto the field; the Smyrna bench erupted into cheers. (They didn’t know until that moment that his brother was on the field for Central.) My heart started pounding as my boys–one in purple and gold, the other in black, gold, and white–greeted each other midfield. The stage was set for the battle of the brothers.
And off they went.
Paul played with more intensity than ever, determined to prove he could hang with his older brother. And Jackson played with joyful abandon. And a smile that never left his face.
Paul muscled the ball away from Jackson. Then Jackson laid Paul out and took off with the ball. Those eight minutes, watching them both play a game they love so much, was everything. I didn’t realize until then how much I wanted it to happen. It was pure magic.
At the third whistle, they found each other before they went to their benches.
And despite it all, I did not cry.
🖤💛💜
(And if you’re wondering, I wore a black and gold hoodie for game one and a purple Smyrna hoodie for game two.)
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