Alright, alright, writers, I’m ducking. Strike that. New title is below. But why should I? I’ll just promote your writing tips instead. Readers, if you aren’t writers but have questions on writing, drop me a line on my Guestbook and I’ll recommend my smart friends’ or other authors’ writing to help you.

Welcome all to my first blog on Chapters of Life. I hope you’ll enjoy this post.


My son belongs to a hopeless soccer team. Soccer-wise, that is. He joined them five years ago when he was five years old. Do you know how adorable they looked at that age in their smart blue-yellow stripy uniform? Watching them brought us smiles. Watching them run brought us uproarious doubled-over-‘cause-there’s-no-floor-to-roll-on laughter. These mini dudes only knew that in soccer you had to chase the ball and try to score. They didn’t know any rules. So they chased the ball everywhere across the green expanse, and when the ball had the audacity to leave the field and roll off the side hill, all of them ran after it down the hill too!

But they aren’t unintelligent little men playing in the hilly suburbs of Sydney anymore. They know the rules now… but suck at the techniques. Criticism from a visiting cousin, along with trips to Olympic Park and to Sydney’s Football Stadium to watch the BIG teams, fuelled my son to ask me last year, “May I please change my club next season?”

Alas. He was with his Dad at the local shopping centre one Saturday morning when they happened to pass the long-time club’s 2012 soccer registration. I, busy writing plus a million-and-one other things, had not yet told hubby about the boy’s wish to change club. Hubby, delighted to meet his pals other soccer dads after the long holiday, registered him to this club right away. The kid, speechless among towering men, well, was speechless.

His team was trashed in the first match of the season. Only two boys were busy fighting. One at the back—while the others sort of watched—and my son at the front, dribbling with the ball alone with no-one backing him to produce a goal. The final score was too shamy-shamy to bear repeating. In heartbreaking fury he demanded,”Why did you enrol me with them, AGAIN???”

It was all my fault, of course.

Needless to say, I had a hard time to appease him.

Yet a few months on they’ve now formed a bond. The camaraderie of being together for years has returned. The routine of training and Saturday games, and… yes, the shared pain of constant losing, have brought the boys very close indeed. The other boys think my son cool for putting some fear in the enemies’ hearts. True it’s extremely hard to score a goal when his friends don’t run as fast as he does to support him, but how can he be disappointed in them when they all look at him with so much fondness? He loves soccer and he is very happy to be part of these friends.

His team lost the last match, but he’s forgotten all about being upset. Watching him smile with happy eyes all day, proudly wearing “Man of The Match” medal, I hope he will carry on that positive attitude to adulthood. We talked. Happiness isn’t only about winning. It is first of all about loving the process, and having likeminded buddies to share the experience with.

Just like writing and the writers’ world, huh?

And did I say his team was hopeless? Strike that. The kids are awesome li’l champs—each one of them. I’ve seen kids in a better-remain-unnamed individual sport who treat their own club members’ as personal rivals. They’re so fanatic about their sport and train like Olympians (and a few are so good that I believe they may truly become future Olympians), but in between turns they spend their waiting time playing Nintendo-DS, completely ignoring their ‘friends’. Losing or not, my son’s friends definitely aren’t losers.

Hello World!

Welcome all to my brand-new blog which has the theme Chapters of Life. This is a read-and-share blog of everyday life experience. I hope to share with you, and invite you to share with me and other readers here, an event or anything intriguing about life to make us smile, hope, commiserate or laugh-out-loud with you, or learn something new in some way.

Greetings from Sydney,

Ia Uaro