When we first got to Germany, Dane joined the soccer team. Just like all the German kids. Soccer is huge here! Think football on crack. People live & breath soccer. And soccer is fun. There’s no doubt. But it wasn’t Dane’s be-all, end-all sport. My first clue were the cartwheels & handstands he’d make while defending the goal. Not junior Beckham behavior.
In fact, Dane spent most of a year cartwheeling everywhere we went. Even following me in the zoo, the store, uphill! Dane just loved tumbling. I signed him up for tumbling after school one day a week, not a true tumbling but rather an indoor sport class that included tumbling. He loved the actual tumbling the best.
By the third year of soccer, Dane was maybe 8? The fun faded. He had practice 2, sometimes 3 days a week. At least an hour usually two. Every weekend there was a tournament, frequently on both Saturday and Sunday. Even in winter. In winter there was indoor soccer. Fast soccer. Like soccer is slow!
Honestly, it was too much for me first. All the soccer. All the time. I like to sleep in on weekends, not watch the sun rise on another soccer field in some faraway village. Even if it was in Germany. Soon it was too much for Dane too and he begged not to go. To do something besides soccer.
We tried doing nothing. We tried having a pony (I loved the pony!). We tried swimming (we’re still swimming). We tried music (I hated the trumpet!). Skiing. Ice skating. Finally, one day late last Fall he came home from school:
“Mom, there’s a breakdancing class tonight. Can I go? My friends are going.” Breakdancing. That’s still a thing? I thought that went out with the 80’s. 90’s tops. But nope, I googled. It’s a thing. There’s a class. A 2-hour class. I took Dane. I picked up a bruised & battered & beaming-with-joy Dane. He loves, loves, LOVES breakdancing.
Turns out, he’s also really, really good at it. Here we are six months later, and he’s had his first recital. He crushed it. He can flip, flop, do the splits like nobody else. I was so impressed & proud. I was beaming. My smile almost broke my face when the instructor approached us and asked if we were open to Dane going to breakdance battles around Germany. I could feel the happiness radiating off my little guy. He’s found his sport.
In other news. I need indoor sport photography lessons. Dane needs lessons in how to keep his tongue in his mouth. Minor problems. We have a breakdancer!