views

My Story

Jewfro

Don’t Cheer For Me, Argentina, Part 2

A

drift after the
tournament,
aftershocks of
the F-bomb I dropped
still reverberating, I
stumbled onto a path
toward recovery from
choaching (cheering
Ben Falik
+ coaching). A seem-
ingly desperate mea-
sure that has helped me
through these desperate times: Silent
Soccer.
As Stefan Fatsis describes it in Slate
magazine, Silent Soccer is a movement
that dates back to the turn of the centu-
ry and has become an annual tradition
in many leagues where neither parents
nor coaches speak, “forcing adults to
conform to an extreme behavior for one
weekend … to get them to tone it down
on all the other weekends, to give more
agency to and reduce pressure on their
children.”
Learning about Silent Soccer was like
heading the black hexagon of a freshly
inflated size 5 ball off my temple (8 PSI;
headers, mind you, are illegal in MYSL
games until players are 12 years old) and
seeing straight for the first time.
Time, then, to speak out about shut-
ting up. In the spirit of solidarity and
seeking support, I emailed the team
parents to propose we try Silent Soccer
at one of the season’s last few games.
I insisted that, despite the deafening
irony, I was not being facetious. I was as
sincere as I am fond of the word face-
tious for using every vowel in alphabeti-

cal order — and sometimes ly.
Their silence spoke volumes. So, I
decided to go choach turkey, even if I
had to go it alone.
I have been silent for three soccer
games now, and each game gets a little
easier. Sure, it’s awkward at times.
Approximately all the times. My bellow-
ing baritone and gelatinous gesticula-
tions usually go hand in hand, so I look
like Dr. Strangelove trying to keep my
voice and arm down when the ball
ricochets off an opposing player out of
bounds near the parent (nut-free) pea-
nut gallery.
And sure, I’d like to think I could stop
after just one dose of “De-FENCE” or
limit myself to a celebratory cheer after
Judah scores one of his Peleseque goals.
But I know better. I almost relapsed
when the other team’s goalie clearly
clearly (clearly) stepped out of the box,
ball in hand, and the ref didn’t notice.
Would our kids’ — they’re 9 by the way
— free kick have been worth sliding
down the slippery slope back to vocifer-
ous verbal volleys and accompanying
almost-aneurysms? That’s even clearer
(if that’s even possible) than the goalie
stepping over the line.
While I don’t yet have a statistically
significant data set to run a regres-
sion analysis, anecdotal evidence sug-
gests there is no correlation/causation
between my raucous rhetoric and the
outcome of these high-stakes games.
I can make sure Judah’s uniform is
clean — with a couple extra sheets of
fabric softener for intimidation — his

water bottle is full and his bladder is
empty. I can slather sunscreen, even on
the parts of his legs that will be covered
by shin guards. I can quarter oranges
until there are no oranges left to quarter.
But I can’t stop Eric Lloyd from scor-
ing the go-ahead goal at the homecom-
ing game during Lahser’s championship
season. I can’t keep Josh Lefkowitz from
languishing on stage in Anything Goes
waiting for me to say, “Billy, where the
devil’s my passport?” Or defend Shataan
from our fellow second graders. I can’t
keep Blake O’Neill from fumbling that
punt. Or get 80,000 more people to show
up Nov. 8. Or save Cecil. I will never
win the Canton Cup, though I might
re-injure my ACL tripping over Judah’s
trophy in the dark.
It’s his game to play, his assists to
make, his goals to pursue, his lines to
cross, his friends to defend, his head to
use (once he’s 12) and if the most I can
offer is soccer’s sacred space and the
sound of silence, then come to his next
game — you’ll hear it loud and clear. •

life for himself.
One might think that this is a pow-
erful story of survival, and it is. But it
is also a story of a lifelong grief that
could not be consoled. Jack mourned
for his parents. But he grieved his
separation from them. This could
be called “survivor’s guilt,” but it was
more than that. There were even times
when Jack wished he was not sent

away, just so he could be with his
parents.
The United States is creating more
“Jacks.” Because of President Trump’s
“zero-tolerance policy,” the U.S. forc-
ibly separated parents from children,
some as young as infants and toddlers,
with no plan to reunite them after
each immigration case is adjudicated.
Parents are being deported without

letters

A Man Named Jack

I knew a man named Jack who was
born in Germany before the beginning
of World War II. He survived the war
as part of the Kindertransport, a pro-
gram that rescued thousands of Jewish
children who were brought to England
between 1938-1940. Jack’s parents
died in the Holocaust. He made his
way to America, married and created a

Jessica Goodwin works for
Jewish Federation of Metropolitan
Detroit, and has long been familiar
with Hebrew Free Loan.
“It’s an amazing organization,
helping people in our community
with a variety of ﬁnancial needs,”
Jessica said. “The HFL staff are
valued colleagues, we share a
building, and I refer people to them
regularly. I really respect how they
make people feel valued and
supported.”
Jessica and her husband, Justin,
approached Hebrew Free Loan as
they were undergoing a kitchen
renovation, and again later on, to
replace their roof.
“HFL is a great resource for those
times in your life where you might
not have such a large amount of
money right at hand to cover the
total expense,” said Jessica.
“While it was nice to know about
HFL and suggest it to people I met,
when I considered HFL myself, I
was nervous to ask, because I
know them. The process truly was
handled with dignity, and what I felt
was gratitude, not embarassment.
Our kitchen was updated in a way
that’s conducive to our needs in
terms of building a kosher home,
our belongings are safe and dry,
and we can have people in for
Shabbat or for holidays in a place
we’re proud of.”
It was good, Jessica said, to
experience ﬁrsthand what it’s like
to work with a Federation partner.
“Now I can conﬁdently direct
people to HFL and know they’ll feel
the same caring professionalism I
did,” she said.

Click. Call. Give Now.
www.hfldetroit.org
248.723.8184

Health. A fresh start.
A good education.
The next great business idea.

Hebrew Free Loan gives interest-
free loans to members of our
community for a variety of
personal and small business
needs. HFL loans are funded
entirely through community
donations which continually
recycle to others, generating
many times the original value
to help maintain the lives of
local Jews.

6735 Telegraph Road, Suite 300 • Bloomfield Hills, MI 48301

Hebrew Free Loan Detroit

@HFLDetroit

continued on page 6

jn

June 28 • 2018

5

