I’d always play my soccer games wearing mismatched socks.  As long as one of them was red, the color of the other didn’t matter as long as it was distinctly not red.  The motivation behind my bold fashion choice?   Nothing beyond an attempt to give my opponents something to think about.

As a player of somewhat limited ability I’d take whatever advantage I could get.

Occasionally my vastly more talented teammates would ask me if I wanted the ball to the red side or non-red side and inevitably I’d have to look down and see what side the red was on that day.  Confusing my teammates wasn’t a particularly good strategy… especially since my goals were about as common as a good Nicolas Cage movie, but I did enjoy hearing opponents occasionally discussing my attire and planning their defenses.

Remembering a game when I inexplicably scored a pair of goals within a minute of each other (this must’ve been around the time of Leaving Las Vegas), I can still distinctly remember the opposing goal keeper screaming at this team to “keep the ball from number 2’s red leg” and “no more shots for number 2!”

I remember wrenching my back during that same game and needing to spend most of my time on the sidelines. I can also say with certainty that there’s no way I scored more than 4 goals that entire season.  2 was definitely a high water mark for any one game despite what the opposition mistakenly believed for a fleeting moment.

I’d shared this story with Snowflake long before she became The Right Foot of Rockville™️,  but as can happen when you’re a parent: yesterday… months later hearing my tale… for the first time she insisted on wearing mismatched socks.  Somehow it this was more proof of my DNA, leaving my lovely red headed wife to worry that our snowflakes have inherited my fashion sense.

Unfortunately the mismatched socks coincided with the end of our season-long winning streak as too many of our girls were distracted with playing in the dirt. For her part, the Right Foot of Rockville was still running over opponents and pounding the ball toward the goal and screaming at her teammates to keep their heads in the game like it was a life and death situation.

She gets that from me too. Her ability to score goals however must come from her mother.