End practice tonight with a keepy-uppy contest. These kids have really improved at this but none can hold a candle to me. After watching the most skilful player in the squad reach 40, much to the delight of his cheering peers, I take center-stage.
‘Now let’s watch how the professionals do it,’ I say, shoving the 10-year-old upstart off to the side.
I cruise to 40 and once I’ve beaten that tally and ensured my victory in the competition, I begin showboating. I’m alternating between left and right feet, mixing in some thigh work, and even a couple of headers. Of course, some of the kids are jealous of my ability. There is a distinct lack of cheering at my ball-juggling magnificence, and one or two of the fresher ones are actually bouncing balls to try to distract me. As if that’s going to work.
Still, enough of them are staring in awe for me to know this is a worthwhile exercise. I'm giving them something to aspire to. I stop at 100 keepy-uppies but really I could have done twice that. I swear I could.
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