Scary ghost stories and stuff (1)

My son

"Go get 'em, Jake!" I yelled, as my son came onto the soccer field.

Today was the finals. My son's team was playing the Wolves, the best team in the division. I've been to every one of my son's games and I know just how good of a player he is. He'll do foundations, faking out the defender till he falls on his butt.

My son's amazing.

The game began with the Wolves getting kickoff. They passed the ball around efficiently, but my son read one of the passes and stole the ball, passing it back to our goalie for safekeeping.

"Great job Jake!"

My son turned his head to the crowd, quickly scanning the faces till he met mine. I smiled and waved. He had a quizzical look on his face, but returned his attention to the game, as his team was moving the ball forward. No doubt he was puzzled by how loudly I was cheering; I almost never cheered at his games, but this game was the final.

My son collected the ball that he received from a teammate, broke the defender's ankles with a quick pull-back-in, shot the ball, and scored.

"That's my son! Great goal Jake!" I yelled, jumping up and down, clapping my hands.

My son, knowing where I was in the crowd now, turned and looked at me, a frown crossing his face, even though he was being swarmed by his teammates. I should probably be quieter; it doesn't seem like my son is used to me being so energetic at games.

Almost immediately after the Wolves kicked off, my son sprinted in and won the ball, only to be side-tackled by an opposing player. The ref called a foul, but of course I was still livid.

"Oh come on ref, that's a card! They can't do that to my son!" I yelled angrily at the ref.

My son got up and started talking to the ref, pointing my way, probably trying to get a card out of the ref, as my son should be doing since that slide tackle was dirty. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to see a man wearing a Rabbits t-shirt.

My son's team.

"Excuse me, but why are you yelling at my son Jake?

I was dumbfounded. Could this guy really be that stupid and delusional?

"Because I'm his father." I said as snidely as I could.

I turned back to the field, thinking the conversation was over, only to see the ref right in front of me. Oh boy, I'm gonna get a card for yelling, I thought silently.

"Number 8 said you were calling him 'son' even though he's never seen you before. Is that true?"

Everyone in the bleachers and the field were looking at me.

Well, it looks like the jig is up, I thought as I slipped the gun out of my inner coat, staring directly at Jake.

Let's make my dream become reality.