Chapter 6: Lori and Davey and Kip

The next day, I got a call from the lady who was in charge of assigning referees to the soccer games sponsored by our soccer association.

"Hello, Mrs. Dailey," I said. "Is there going to be a schedule change?"

"No, Sean," she answered. "I got a call from one of the parents at a game you officiated at last week that I need to talk to you about."

"Oh?" I asked with some apprehension. "Did I do something wrong?" I was thinking about that game that my concentration was not on after my experience with Kayla.

"No, Sean, not at all. This was one of your under-eight games from a couple of weeks ago. It seems you impressed some of the parents. This particular mom wanted your name and phone number to ask if you would be interested in giving some private soccer lessons to her children. Since it's not our policy to just give out telephone numbers, I told her I would call you and give you her name and number, and if you were interested, you would call her instead. She agreed to that, so I have her information if you would like it."

"That's great, Mrs. Dailey, I really appreciate it."

"You know, Sean, usually when I get calls from parents it's to complain about one of our officials. It's a pleasure to be able to pass along one of the few compliments we receive. You should feel good about the job you've been doing out there, and I for one really appreciate the work you've done."

"Aw, Jeez, Mrs. Dailey, you're embarrassing me, but thanks."

"You're very welcome, Sean," she said. "And thank you."

She gave me the information. The call was from a Mrs. Wilkinson, and she was interested in beginner lessons for her seven-year-old and eight-year-old boys. I called her and introduced myself, and we chatted for a few minutes.

"So, Sean, you were the referee at my son's game. I was really impressed with how well you were able to communicate with the kids. Kip is seven and his brother Davey is eight, and they both say they want to learn how to play better. Would you be interested in helping them? I'll be glad to pay you by the hour."

"Sure, Mrs. Wilkinson, I'll be glad to help them."

And so arrangements were made. The Wilkinsons lived about half a mile from my house, so I agreed to meet the boys that afternoon at their house to start their lessons.

After lunch, I loaded up my gear in a backpack and rode my bike over to their house. I rang the bell, and a lady answered the door.

"Yes? Oh, hi Sean. I remember you from my sons' game. I'm Lori Wilkinson. Come on in and meet the boys."

I was a little shocked that this person was really Mrs. Wilkinson. She looked to be barely into her twenties. She was about 5'6" tall, slender, with light brown hair cut just to her shoulders. She was very tan and looked thin, but quite fit. The halter-top she wore accentuated her small waist and made her top look bigger than it probably was, and the white shorts made her tan legs look like they were about a mile long. If she hadn't introduced herself, I would have assumed she was a college-age babysitter or something.

I followed her back into the house. In the kitchen, she offered me some lemonade, and then poked her head out the patio door.

"Kip!" she called. "Davey! Come in for a minute, boys!"

I heard them before I saw them. They were yelling and tumbling and practically doing somersaults over each other on their way into the house. They stopped for a second when they saw me by the kitchen table, and Mrs. Wilkinson introduced us.

"Are you going to teach us soccer?" asked Davey.

"You were the referee at my game," said Kip at the same time.