Photo: Staci Klemmer

When my eldest made the travel team at age 9, I had no idea what to expect. I knew it involved playing other local teams and going to tournaments. Most of the tournaments on our schedule were fairly local — maybe 30 minutes away.

Our club offers some flexibility to choose what tournaments to go to with one exception. Our club always goes en masse to the Hempfield Fall Classic in Lancaster. It happens every year the weekend before Thanksgiving. Over 700 teams from Pennsylvania and surrounding states participate.

This is my favorite weekend.

Why, you ask?

Not because of the downright crazy cold temperatures – it was 18 degrees when we got up on Saturday morning. Thank goodness our games didn’t start until 10:30 am – when it was a balmy 32. Last year the wind/cold combo was so bad that the Sunday games were cancelled. Our first year, the tournament committee was leaf blowing the snow off the field.

Not because our teams win – our goal going into this tournament is not to get pummeled, and maybe, just maybe, win a game. A caveat to that is my younger son’s first year at Hempfield, when the stars aligned and they won the championship in PK’s. (Yes, it aged me.) My complaint is Hempfield has an elite division, an A division, and everybody else. One of my sons is in a division where he is playing the A team (Division 2 in ICSL) from a local club when he is a C team (Division 4). There is always at least one team in each bracket that purposely plays down so they can say they are Hempfield Champions, but that’s another post.

This is my favorite weekend because it is one big party.

Our club takes over a local hotel and we (adults and kids) run wild. I tell my kids, go, have fun, I don’t want to see you until curfew at 10:00 pm. All the parents gather and consume lots of beer and bond over shared soccer war stories. The kids are in and out of the pool, the game room, and generally running amok in the halls.

Since this is a large hotel with a gorgeous ballroom, inevitably there is at least one wedding during the weekend. The ballroom opens out into the hotel lobby, where a bunch of us congregate around the fireplace. Two years ago I noticed a couple of players from my older son’s team (they were 12 at the time) sneak into the reception. I followed to see what was going on and they were quietly standing in the back of the hall bouncing to the music. I saw the bride walk toward them and instead of asking them to leave, grabbed them by the hands and pulled them on the dance floor. After a few moments, out of nowhere, 11 and 12 year old boys started streaming on to the dance floor, followed by the moms (drinks in hands) and then the dads (cameras in hand). We all danced the night away and that bride had a unique reception that she will never forget. And don’t worry – she was OK with it.

This weekend is not about soccer – it’s about team spirit. It’s the one weekend our whole club is together. I love seeing all of the players in our club colors in the hotel, on the fields, at the outlets. It makes me proud to be part of our club and youth soccer.

Paul’s team went 2-1-0 and almost made it to the championship game. James’ team was not as successful, but on a positive note, at least they scored a goal!