The Soccer Match (Bedtime Story)

BEDTIME WITH MRS.

HONEYBEE Today,

In the Honeybee neighborhood,

There will be a championship soccer game.

Don't you mean football,

Mrs.

Honeybee?

Kinda,

But don't let Roger Robot hear you mention that.

He loves to explain how the two sports came to be.

Did someone ask about football and why it's called soccer,

Too?

No,

No,

I don't think we did.

Did you,

My dear?

Nope,

Uh-uh,

Not us.

No,

No,

I was just saying that the Honeybee Hive are playing the midnight ruckus in the championship soccer game tonight,

And I'm excited to watch and cheer on the Hive.

Those ruckuses really do live up to their name,

Don't they?

I think I can already hear them coming,

And the game hasn't even started.

I'll bring us our noise-canceling earmuffs,

Harold.

All you have to do is close your eyes,

Get cozy,

And listen to the sound of my voice.

Mrs.

Honeybee will be your guide.

Let's begin.

You are here,

Driving the Honeybee neighborhood golf cart through to our house with your favorite number jersey on.

The sun has already begun to set because you are arriving much later than you usually do.

Today is a special day,

Though.

It's the day of the championship game between the rumbling,

Bumbling Honeybee Hive and the midnight ruckus soccer teams.

That's why Mr.

Honeybee,

Melody Bee,

Harold,

And I are all standing out in front of the closed garage door wearing our jerseys,

Too,

Waiting for you to arrive.

When we see you round the corner to our house,

We excitedly wave until you pull up the driveway and we can pile in.

Hello,

My little Honeybee.

Aww,

Look,

We all match with our jerseys.

It's like we're part of the team,

Or even our own team.

The Honeybee Hive needs all the help of their fans that they can get.

The midnight ruckus are a hard team to beat.

Do you think us wearing our jerseys helps them,

Mr.

Honeybee?

Uh,

Yes,

Of course it does.

It's been scientifically proven,

I'm sure.

Suddenly,

The garage door opens without any of us pressing the button.

Roger Robot wheels out to correct the record.

It has not been scientifically proven that fans,

Which I remind you is short for fanatics,

Wearing jerseys helps the team's performance.

Wearing jerseys is for the fanatics themselves to feel what humans call catharsis and a sense of belonging.

Before Roger rolls back his cubby to finish his power cycle,

He turns around with a sweet smile and a satisfied wave.

Enjoy your catharsis,

Everyone.

See you when you get back.

The garage closes as quickly as it opened and the house is quiet once again.

We all sit back a little stunned,

Looking down at our jerseys,

Then back up to each other before Melody Bee breaks the contemplative silence.

Well,

I know I'll enjoy my catharsis.

Let's go,

Little Honeybee.

Flora.

With that,

You reverse down the driveway and head toward the stadium.

You can already see the bright lights shining in the distance.

It gets even brighter as the sun sets and gives way to billions of twinkling stars.

Take a slow,

Deep breath in through your nose.

Feel your chest expand,

Filled with fresh,

Cool air.

Then,

Slowly,

Breathe all the way out and turn on two wheels into the stadium like an expert race car driver.

We all hold on to the passenger poles of the golf cart and tilt with the turn,

Laughing at your silly antics.

Once you park,

We gather our foam fingers,

Our team signs,

And big puffy jackets in case it gets chilly and we walk into the stadium.

The lights are so bright that we think they'll keep us warm along with all the adrenaline that's stirred up watching our favorite team play.

We are ready for the championship game.

We walk up the stands to our favorite seats at the top.

Right foot,

Left foot,

Right foot,

Left foot.

When we get to our seats,

We set everything up and sit down,

Patiently waiting for the game to start with our snacks.

Before we see the midnight ruckus arrive on the field,

We hear them.

We stand up to look over the back of the stands and see their purple bus arrive,

Filled with their rowdy team members.

Once the bus stops,

They do not exit in a single file line out of the door.

Oh no,

The midnight ruckus pull down windows to hop out the window.

That way.

And the windows that won't yank down on the first hug get smashed out.

They are loud and proud and have certainly lived up to their team name.

But we know better than to underestimate even the messiest of opponents.

They are excellent,

Extremely disciplined players who let off steam in the loudest way possible.

As the team members take the field,

The coaching teams assemble.

But there seems to be commotion as if something is wrong.

It's hard to tell with all the ruckus from the midnight ruckus,

But it looks like something's going on with the coaches.

I'm going to go down to see if everything's OK.

That's a good idea,

My dear.

They look worried.

What could be wrong?

Do you think the ruckus caused a bit too much ruckus before the game could even start?

It's hard to say.

They sure are rambunctious.

It's a little hard to hear each other over the swelling sounds of both teams and their fans feeling the anticipation of the championship game approaching.

Take another slow,

Deep breath in through your nose.

Soften your senses and bring your awareness inward where there's only your persistent heart beating once,

Twice,

Three times.

Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and sink heavily into your seat in the stands,

Rooted in place and excited for the game.

It looks like the game is about to start.

But then Mr.

Honeybee waves up to us.

Does Mr.

Honeybee want us to go down there on the field?

I think he does.

Harold,

You stay here with our blankets.

We should be right back.

I'll stay with him up here.

These blankets aren't going to snuggle themselves.

OK,

Come on,

Little Honeybee.

Let's go see what Mr.

Honeybee wants.

Standing beside Mr.

Honeybee down on the field,

You look all around as the stands fill up with even more fans.

There doesn't seem to be one spare seat in the whole stadium.

The glaring lights seem even brighter when they're pointing at you on the field.

You don't hear me ask Mr.

Honeybee what's wrong,

But you do hear his response.

The Honeybee Hive team's head coach and the two referees aren't feeling well.

They try their best to get up and come out to the game,

But they're all down for the count and cannot possibly work tonight for the biggest game of the season.

The team is panicking.

I'm panicking.

They have no idea what they're going to do.

What are they going to do?

We're all wearing our jerseys,

So you know we'll figure it out.

And wait a minute,

I have an idea.

My dear,

Can't we coach them,

At least for this game?

We've been following them for the whole season,

And you basically coach them from the stands,

But they just can't hear it.

We can do this.

You know what?

I bet we can.

We need refs,

Though.

Mr.

Honeybee and I both look at each other,

Wondering,

Then look at you with big smiles,

Knowing how diligent and reliable you are.

Oh,

Are you thinking what I'm thinking,

Mrs.

Honeybee?

Well,

I'm thinking our little Honeybee over here would make the perfect championship game ref.

And I know the second.

In an instant,

Roger Robot wheels onto the field,

Fully charged and ready for catharsis with his own jersey none of us knew he had.

I'm here,

I'm here.

Mr.

Honeybee,

You said you needed someone to make exacting,

Down to the millimeter,

Calls that will determine the fate of two rival soccer,

Er,

Football,

Or soccer teams?

Is that what you said,

Dear?

I said we needed a ref.

Same thing.

Who needs my judgment?

Point me to them.

Roger Robot assumes you are his partner referee and takes your hand as he rolls to the booth to get your ref shirts so everyone can identify you.

Donning such an important garment makes you immediately feel the power vested in this otherwise simple black and white striped collared shirt.

Take another slow,

Deep breath in through your nose and strengthen each of your muscles.

Reconnect with your strength and your focus.

Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and release all the tension from your muscles and then your mind.

From now on,

Your focus is of utmost importance and Roger Robot is by your side to help.

The teams line up on the field and look to you to blow the whistle to signal the official start of the game.

You blow the whistle and look to the kickoff to begin refereeing with Roger.

The game is a good one from the start.

You run back and forth across the field with Roger Robot wheeling close behind.

As soon as the honeybee hive scores a goal,

The midnight ruckus scores too,

And vice versa.

No team can get ahead and they are locked in a tie for most of the game.

Before you know it,

There are two minutes left in extra time at the end of the game.

The midnight ruckus kicked the ball right out of bounds.

You and Roger Robot both blow your whistles to signal that a corner kick has been awarded to the honeybee hive.

Mr.

Honeybee and I huddle together before giving signals to the team.

The appointed corner kicker goes to the corner and stands before the ball.

Even the midnight ruckus and their rambunctious fanatics have gone quiet.

The entire stadium is silent.

All you can hear is the sound of your own breath,

Which reminds you to reconnect with it in a moment like this.

Take your slowest,

Deepest breath in through your nose.

Feel the coolness of the nighttime air coming in through your nose.

Finding its way to your lungs and expanding your chest out.

Then hold it there as if you can stop time before slowly breathing all the way out through your mouth.

Once time resumes and the silence becomes too much,

The honeybee hive player kicks the ball with just enough power.

It draws the midnight ruckus goalie far enough away from the goal,

But still close enough for another player on the team to get under the ball and head it into the back of the net.

You blow your whistle again to signal the winning goal.

And that is how the honeybee hive defeated the midnight ruckus in the championship game.

We are the champions.

We did it.

The stands erupt in both cheers and boos as the fans react.

The honeybee hive rejoice on the field,

Jumping up to hug each other in the air.

They run over to you and Roger Robot for sweaty hugs.

Then to me and Mr.

Honeybee,

Who give a round of high fives and hugs for a game well played.

On the other side of the field,

It's not the same story.

The midnight ruckus,

Already rowdy in their way,

Now is fueled by loss and the feeling of defeat.

Their coaches yell into the nighttime sky at no one in particular,

Just to process the loss.

The teammates start wrestling each other as they blame one another for the loss.

It's a lot to process,

So we give them space to process it as they do.

While we congratulate our own team in our more supportive way,

Because as we know,

It's important to be both a good winner and a good loser in healthy competition.

We won this one,

But the next one might challenge us in unexpected ways,

And that will be okay too.

Both are learning opportunities and moments to be enjoyed.

The midnight ruckus do not take our approach,

The championship game,

Nor anything else lightly.

The honeybee hive gather around the center of the field to say good game to their worthy opponents.

Mr.

Honeybee joins and is sure to emphasize that they really gave the hive a good challenge,

And that both teams will be better because of this intense close call game.

All we could get were squinted,

Suspicious eyes,

And a loud booming ruckus on their way out.

The honeybee hive didn't let any sore losers diminish their satisfied feeling of solid teamwork leading to a game well played.

All the fans came down from the stands in their jerseys and lift up the whole team as if they were crowd surfing.

Together,

Side by side under the team in the crowd,

We laughed and carried them out to their bus,

And everyone agreed to meet for celebratory ice cream.

Always remember Mrs.

Honeybee believes in you.

You are special and you are loved.

I can't wait to see you again.