The Mast-Head: World Cup

By chance, my son, Ellis, and I became East Hampton 7-on-7 soccer fans last week. With time to kill before meeting the rest of the family for a dinner out that never happened, my 5-year-old suggested going to the playground.

We arrived a little after 7 p.m. There was a little chill in the air. I pulled on an old sweatshirt from the back of the car. Ellis did not want his, and ran in short shirtsleeves toward the climbing equipment and swings.

Ellis’s attention was quickly diverted to the game just ending on the big field just behind the Waldbaum’s supermarket, however. We watched as the winning team, which I found out later was Hampton F.C.-Bill Miller, wrapped it up.

One of the next sides to come onto the field  wore blue uniforms, Ellis’s favorite color, so they instantly were his team. I told him I was taking the guys in black and white stripes.

Not that I know all that much about soccer, but the level of play looked good enough to me. Seven-on-7 is a fast game, and plenty physical.

Ellis, seated on a bench behind my team’s goal, yelled, “Go blue!” every time a team member touched the ball. He was right in his choice, of course, and, as the evening sun turned everything golden, the blues, Bateman Painting, took the win.

On a somewhat astonishing website devoted to the local 7-on-7 six-team league I later found a photograph of Ellis and me watching the Bateman game. I look far too serious, frowning in my wife’s old college sweatshirt. But Ellis is on the edge of his seat, excited and en