You will find short stories on this site. Most are autobiographical. Some are fiction.

THE TEAM’S NAME

In the spring of 1980, my son and some of the boys in his 2nd grade class, wanted to start a soccer team. They needed a coach. I was the only dad to volunteer. I attended the Portland Youth Soccer league’s coaches clinic. We formed a team with weekly practices on the grass-covered athletic field behind their Tualatin View Elementary school.

Mt. Saint Helens erupted in May of that year. The devastating initial blast was followed by several minor eruptions. A couple of these occurred when the wind was carried the ash over Portland. These brought a shower of fine ash that settled into the grass of our soccer field. During subsequent practices when the boys would kick the soccer ball, a small puff of ash would fly up. These practices were especially fun for the lads because the puff of ash made it seem like the ball had been fired from a cannon.

Shortly after the ash event, the soccer league let me know that our team needed a name. I felt that it should be up to the boys to choose it, so after practice, I gathered them together for a team meeting. I told them that the soccer league requires that we have a team name, and asked the boys for suggestions. I would expect that a group of boisterous 7 and 8 year old boys would be boiling over with ideas for their team name, but none of them said a word.

I had thought of a name, one that was relevant to an historic event in their lives, one which was consistent with the sport of soccer, a name which was especially fitting for bunch of somewhat rowdy second graders, and a name which would strike terror in the hearts of their 7 and 8 year old opponents.

I reminded them of the time when they could kick little clouds of ash. Then I told them my idea for the team’s name. The boys did not immediately react to my suggestion. I wondered, “Were they in rapture with such a great name?” Then one of the more outspoken of the boys, hesitantly raised his hand, as if asking for attention from his classroom teacher. I acknowledged his hand, and he said “Mr. Lundy, I don’t think my mommy would like that name.” It was not my intention to make an unacceptable suggestion so that they would come up with ideas of their own, but that is what happened. My rejected name, opened the door for them to name their team. They decided to call themselves “The Little Rascles.” Little Rascles is an OK name, but it’s not as good as my suggestion, “The Little Ash Kickers.”