This summer, Hamilton is at the Kennedy Center for Performing Arts.

'Want to see Hamilton?' she texted me back. I texted my old friend Kendra who I knew from Chicago who now lives in Bethesda, Maryland to see if we could get together.

I wasn't dreading this trip, but I wasn't exactly thinking of it as a full-filled, exciting vacation as the main gist would be how I am going to part with my first born and approximately fifty thousand dollars. I have to take three days off of work for this, which I really don't have. This week, I am taking Claire-Adele to orientation at the University of Maryland. As a mom, it is the lack of control over everyone else's mood and schedule, being at their mercy, and having no way to escape.Īnd then my favorite escape came to the rescue. It isn't one, big, terrible thing like cancer. Sometimes life sucks not because you just lost the big game, but because of the thousands of smaller details of your life add up and weigh you down. The dreams of his country died, too.īut Neymar lives, and will play again, even though that doesn't diminish the pain he feels today. I am sure something in him did die-the dream that he probably had since he was a little kid that he would lead his country to a World Cup victory one day. ' Neymar has admitted that suffering elimination from the World Cup with Brazil was the 'saddest moment of my career' and claims he is having a hard time 'finding the strength to play again'.' Instead of people actually dying, they just feel like they have died when they lose. I am so glad the world has found a replacement for gladiator sports in soccer. The size of the audience and the number of people who cared about the game was different, but if you were a parent on that sideline in Burlington in June, it might as well have been the quarter finals of the World Cup. These grown men, among the best athletes out of 7.4 billion people on earth, reminded me of the Boy's team in that last game. There was no holding back, no doing 'just good enough.' To lose is to die. So there I was, in a bar on a Friday, watching the same thing play out in Russia between two of the top ten teams in the world. Parents on the sidelines dropped their usual conversations about life and kids and vacations to focus on the match. Every kid was fully engaged with the game. The ball went back and forth, the players charging and sweating and grimacing. I've never seen a youth soccer game where there was so much heart from both sides on the field. Civic pride was at stake.īoth teams played hard. The Boy's team was sponsored by the Sounders, Seattle's MLS team. For the last game, the boys (young men?) played an equally matched team from Portland sponsored by the Portland Timbers, the MLS team. The Boy's team made it to the finals for their group. The first three games were qualifiers, and the last two were elimination rounds. Two weeks ago, the Boy's soccer team played a tournament in Burlington where they played five games in less then forty-eight hours.

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