WHEN SHE heard that her final indoor soccer game had been switched to a players-versus-parents scrimmage, R. uncaged her inner trash talker almost immediately.
“What do you think?” I wrote in forwarding her coach’s note about the change.
“4 words, Dad,” she emailed back. “I will cream you.”
That’s how I found myself yesterday morning wearing a t-shirt and shorts, standing inside an enormous complex of basketball courts and artificially turfed soccer fields, and hoping not to pull anything so severely that I couldn’t drive home.
Dadlibbing 