Penalty Kicks, Turf Fields, and a Comeback I'll Never Forget

I do a lot of writing for LinkUnite and have a lot to say about this topic, so I’m rolling out the blog again! Remember, writing is therapeutic someone once told me.

I am not a writer, editor, or journalist by any means - but I have always felt that our local papers miss the heart of these sports stories around here. So, I took a day to collect my thoughts, then write them out. Today I am sharing with you all.

Let me start by saying a few things:

1. Penalty kicks to determine a final game sucks balls.

2. Defensive players do not get the recognition they deserve. We love our goal scorers, absolutely, but I personally see the full picture and all the athletes on the field.

3. Playing on turf is stupid when almost everyone plays on grass all season in our neck of the woods.

4. If you’re 80, it’s time to stop officiating - because let's be honest, you can't see the play or the lines.

5. My son's name is Shane. I call him Sonny.

Our 2025 Monson Boys Varsity Soccer Team

Yesterday, my son and his team competed in the WMASS Final against Turners Falls. They found out Tuesday morning that they’d be playing this big match on Wednesday - in the Berkshires, about an hour and a half from home. That already takes so much of the energy out of a big game - removing the student body and fan base from the mix.

Besides parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and maybe a handful of faithful friends, who can make a Wednesday 3 PM game in the Berkshires? Still, we got past that. We soccer Moms threw together a quick send-off - something Monson families have done for years as a tradition. My son said none of it was necessary and that posters bring bad luck, but you know us moms… we do what we do. At least we had a nice lunch spread, and the kids seemed pumped and excited.

Because of budget restrictions in a small town, the boys’ and girls’ teams - both competing yesterday - shared the same bus. Tight squeeze, but off they went.

The Parents

Now, let’s talk about the parents for a second. Some love us, some hate us - and that’s fine. But you will never find a more dedicated, passionate, and loyal group supporting their kids than us. We show up in the rain, in the cold, and in the middle of the week, an hour and a half from home. We yell too loud, we get nervous, we overanalyze plays, and sometimes we drive the coaches crazy - but we do it all because we love these kids and this game.

The Seniors

Let me back it up for a minute. This group of boys - especially our seniors - hasn’t had it easy. They’ve taken their share of tough losses and learned the hard way. Last year, our own Massachusetts Interscholastic Athletic Association ended up in court because some athletic directors missed deadlines entering bracket info - including our soccer teams. But that’s a story for another day.

This team, though, has overcome a lot and somehow came together this year. It’s the last season for our captain boys, and I wish I had videos from three years ago to compare. The growth is incredible. They glued themselves together. I have a few opinions on how that happened, but the athletes deserve the credit. They found their way. Watching them this season has been pure joy.

The Road to the Finals

Each game to get here was hard-fought, no easy wins. Heading into the playoffs with 12 wins, 1 loss, and 3 ties.

• First game: Granby - 2–1 victory. A team that’s always given us trouble.

• Next: Pioneer Christian Academy - a team we hadn’t faced before. By the grace of God (and a lot of pacing), we came out with a 1–0 win.

Game Day

So here we are - WMASS Finals. A few of us parents had traveled to Turners earlier in the season, where we tied 1–1. Yesterday, we were chatting, and Kevin reminded me how often our defense pulled their offense offside. But on turf, that dynamic changes. We basically in the minutes before the game began broke down the entire game when we played them last. We are a tiny bit extra but no need to judge.

The whistle blew. My memory might be a little jaded by nerves, but I’ll tell it from my perspective, and not all of this could be fully accurate; I don't care. We looked nervous at first. It was evenly matched until Turners scored their first goal. In my opinion, it was offside, but we moved on. Just for a little education, this rule prevents "cherry picking" - players just hanging out by the goal waiting for long passes. It keeps the game fair and strategic, forcing offense to time their runs and defenses to hold their lines. Then Turners scored another goal.

I’m not saying I muttered “Why can’t these fucking athletes catch a break?” - but I might have.

At halftime, one of the Dads, Jason, said, “Don’t let down - it’s only two goals.” He was right.

We rallied. I moved from the bleachers to the fence at half-field, needed to be front row. Then Turners scored again. 3–0. I was standing with our goalie’s Dad, James, and a few others, thinking, “We’re losing again in another WMASS final.” James son Mason is only a freshman so he may have not known our heart break as much.

But then - the magic happened.

With under eight minutes left, we scored. 3–1. Okay, at least they didn’t get shut out. Then, another goal 3–2, a PK, I think (hard to keep track through the chaos). Our leading scorer, Jake, had both.

I turned to James and said, “Can you fucking imagine if we tie this up?” Like, seriously, is this even possible?

And then - they did. Jake buried the third goal, and suddenly, we were tied 3–3. The place erupted. Parents were hugging random people. It was chaos in the best way possible.

It was the greatest comeback I’ve ever seen in Monson High history - at least from where I was standing (and as the Mom of the senior sweeper captain, that’s all that matters).

Every single player had a moment in those final minutes. The grit, the heart - it was unreal and frankly I am fricken grateful I was able to witness it.

Overtime

Now we headed into two 10-minute sudden victory overtime periods - or “golden goal.” First team to score wins. They anxiety for us parents is a strong 10 maybe 11 on a scale of 1-10. You can see in our eyes pure excitement, proudness but also fear or whatever us parents do to ourselves.

The first 10 minutes came and went. Both defenses were warriors. The second period started - I prayed for a miracle. Please God let us score a goal NOW, please, these are good fricken boys. Let them have their time. We didn’t get one. Still tied 3–3.

I found Molly in the crowd to grab a lozenge for my shredded throat and saw the same disbelief on everyone’s faces. Actually had someone who I won't name ask me if I needed my vape? WHAT LOL, Sara does not smoke or vape, yucky. At this point I am looking around deciding who I hate and who I love. Turners had a full school band there - which, for the record, I hated but let's keep this a glass half full blog!

Penalty Kicks

Then came the dreaded words: “We’re going to PKs.”

I looked at James and said, “I’m so sorry. Poor Mason.” Our freshman goalie had come so far this season. I found his mom in the stands - she made a heart with her hands and mouthed, “No matter what happens.” I then thought, man, I wish I were as grounded as this woman. She is like the perfect human to be the Mom of our goalie, I smiled.

In my crazy cheering frenzy, I realized I had actually cut my finger on the fence and was bleeding. Robbie, a Dad of another star captain found me some Band-Aids because, of course, I was ignoring it. Band-Aids from years ago but let me tell you they did the trick.

Now came the moment of truth. The coaches chose their five shooters. I saw my son step up - last in the lineup. Please don’t let him go last, I thought. But yup - there he was. No, I said No, this can't be happening. I believe I crouched down in some weird position with hands over my face, kinda watched him walk toward the goal, and held my breath.

He made his shot, thankfully, but it didn’t go our way overall. We lost 4–3 to PKs.

It’s such a tough way to end. PKs turn a team sport into a personal win or loss. My daughter Molly knows it well - she once missed a critical PK herself back in the day. It’s gut-wrenching for both shooter and goalie.

Thankfully, we have a Mom of one of our amazing Captains who loves to feed us. You may or may not know her, we call her Lisa! She ordered pizzas, grabbed a bunch of soda in the middle of nowhere and brought them back to the field. Our boys were starving.

The Ride Home

On the drive home, Molly and I laughed and replayed the game, moment by moment. Watching everyone hugging and going crazy for this team was so much fun. We had to get her back to Bryant - her only day off from classes is Wednesday - but we had a long drive to break it all down.

As usual, I grabbed Sonny some food, watched the World Series, and waited for him to get home. He was bummed, of course, but like always, we debriefed. My most favorite thing on earth to do. We talked through every play, shared our takes, and agreed - this season was special. I told him he played his ass off, was a leader on that field, and dang it, I am one proud, crazy ass Mom.

Watching him play soccer this year has been one of the true joys of my life. I’m so proud of him, his fellow senior captains, and the entire team.

Our season isn’t over - we’ll find out tomorrow where we land in the state tournament - but no matter what, I’ll never forget this game, this team, or the positive Coaches. That comeback was absolutely incredible and insane to say the least.

And the local articles? They didn’t even come close to telling the story right. I might not have it all correct either, but I think it's much better told by me.

To all the parents who live and breathe every play from the sidelines - we see you, we are you, and we’ll never stop showing up. Don't let anyone suck out your joy or craziness, jumping up and down on those sidelines, screaming your head off for your kid and their team. If you can barely talk today, you are my people. To say I will miss watching my son play high school sports doesn't even begin to cut it.