Soccer Haiku

By Kris Mukai in The New Yorker

For the soccer moms and dads out there.  Some delightful poems published in The New Yorker, and written by Sam Cohen, at the University of Missouri.  They are inspired by conversations he overheard at his children’s soccer games and practices.

Indoor Field, January 31, 2015, or, Song of the Parents

SHOOT IT, OWEN, SHOOT IT
GO GO GO
QUIT PLAYING WITH YOUR SOCKS, ZACH
THAT’S YOURS THAT’S YOURS
UH OH
GET TO THE MIDDLE, SOPHIA
PAY ATTENTION
GIT IT GIT IT GIT IT
OH

Field 3, March 18, 2015, or, The Mouths of Babes

Aidan
Aidan
I’m open
I’m wide open
Hey

You can’t shoot it every time
You’re like a mile from the goal
I’m all by myself in the middle there

At least give and go
Wall pass
Triangle pass
Pass to me
I’ll pass it back
I swear

Field 12, March 18, 2015, or, The Mouths of Babes II 

Whose man was that
I can’t cover everybody
I’m just one kid

Practice Field, April 16, 2015, or, Pelé’s Sister

You call that a settle
Settle the ball, Blake
Right in front of you

We don’t kick like that, Blake
Blake, we don’t kick with our toes, do we
Blake, no toe bombs

Nice cross, Grace
Gracie, way to hustle
Blake, watch Grace