Letter to my grandson (xxxvii)

Dear Winton

We have just had a wonderful weekend together. The highlight was Grasshopper Soccer with you and your dad. This is a photo that your mum took before you left.


It’s your second season, but the first session that I have attended with you. This next photo is one your mum took a year earlier on your first day at Grasshoppers.

You will notice that in the earlier shot your soccer shirt comes down to your wrist. Now it just reaches your elbow.


I came in my normal role as backup, provider of chocolate eggs and photographer. I posted a number of photographs of Facebook and one of your mom’s Facbook friends Wenny Thompson said “I can see little Messi, Cristiano Ronaldo, Neymar & Suarez And hair like Ronaldinho but you got the look”

I often post pictures of you on your mother’s Facebook page and you have quite large and adoring following. You have made every dollar invested in my new Nikon worthwhile.

I’ve taken a number of photographs of you kicking a soccer ball and I must admit, that when I edit out the good ones you are a remarkably well balanced little athelete.

But that’s just your Papa talking.

As usual, you brought your own particular flair and creativity to soccer. There was an activity that was called “Coconuts”. It consisted of a soccer ball balanced on a cone. The idea was to kick another soccer ball and knock the first one off the cone. Now, I have to admit that that, as a concept, that is pretty difficult for a kid who has never seen a coconut shy at a fair.

You were undeterred. You knocked the ball off the cone and put the cone on your head as a hat. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a photograph.

Whenever the soccer instructors wanted to give the team a new set of instructions, they would gather everybody together and sit them down on the soccer balls.


You were very good and listened intently.

“Okay guys,” said the coach, “we have built some towers on the other side of the field. The idea is to kick..”

Well, that was all you needed to hear. You were off across the field and had kicked all the towers down pretty much before the coach had finished the sentence “to kick a soccer ball into the tower and knocked it over.”

The coaches at soccer are excellent. They never say “No, Winton, that’s wrong.” They just work with where you are up to.



It works pretty well.


This is you shooting the coconuts.


And setting up the towers again.


Getting ready for the action with dad.

And ready to go home.


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