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By Pamela Steel
Hi. My name is Pamela S. and I am a soccer mom.
My addiction dates back to when I first signed up my three-year-old son in the Huntsville Soccer Club more than a decade ago.
That first year he was most interested in chasing passing butterflies, hugging teammates and the opposing team, and pulling down his soccer socks. His coach, Michael Hill, would pull his socks back up and Nathan would roll them down again moments later. This game went on throughout the spring.
My favourite moment was when Nathan was playing goal. As the opposing team approached the net, slowly and with little focus in terms of direction, the parent fans noticed the goalie was missing. They spied him quickly though, off toward the bush a short distance from the goal, soccer shorts around his ankles, admiring the impressive stream of pee with which he was anointing the trees…