With only a cursory glance at the two teams sparring on the parched field, you could predict the outcome of my 9-year-old daughter's first soccer game this fall. In the first five minutes of play, the opposing team scored five goals. My daughter's Blue Angels scored zip. The other team, the Samba, consisted of a stellar assembly of fourth-grade girls, most of whom, the Blue Angels coach later learned, train five nights a week with a professional soccer tutor. By the game's bloody conclusion, the Samba coach had begun, mercifully, to curb his players. He had them kicking with their left feet. The Blue Angels, a ragtag anyone-who-can-show-up-for-practice-can-join... More >>>