This afternoon, despite the pouring rain, Alabang Football School’s training went on as usual. Attendance was maybe sixty to seventy percent, but it was more than enough.
An hour into training, the field was already flooded. But the kids and the coaches stayed on the field, running, sliding, kicking. A few parents (myself included), nannies and drivers sheltered in the covered bleachers, preferring to stay dry while watching from a distance.
While watching the kids enjoy their training in the hard rain, I was suddenly struck by two realizations.
First, these footballers love playing in the rain, and it’s actually not bad for them. Getting soaked in the rain doesn’t equal getting sick (as long as you have a dry change of clothes and maybe some vitamin C soon after). My daughter and her friends always say that they love playing football in the rain, and doing exactly that hasn’t yet given my daughter a cold.
Second, I must think of myself so old that I’ve forgotten the joy of playing in the rain! There was a time in my youth when my father would suggest that he, my siblings and I play in the rain just outside our house. I even remember making paper boats and letting them drift down the gutter. Has motherhood erased my sense of child-like play?
My first instinct is always to avoid getting wet in the rain, especially with my kids. But in the case of football, I’ve learned that playing in the rain (sans lightning and thunder, of course) is fine. Just always be ready with towels, slippers and a dry change of clothes.