He's a little unclear on the concept

Mark was very excited to play sports this spring. I asked which one to sign him up for.

He mulled it over for a moment, then said decisively, "Flag football."

"Not soccer?" I asked. I was surprised--he'd been talking about soccer a lot lately, and watching all the international games on TV.

"Nope," he answered. "Football."

So football it was.

The first practice was a little tough. The coach spent most of it yelling at Mark, who ran around the field confused, always three steps behind where he should be. 

"He even yelled at me when I did things right," Mark said. 

Mark's a negotiator--when you tell him to turn left, he wants to discuss why it's better to turn right. It surprised nobody but Mark that coaches don't take well to that.

"You have to do what he says," I told Mark. "He's been coaching a lot longer than you've been playing. He knows what he's doing--just listen to him."

Mark responded, "Hmph."

After a few more practices, he seemed to get a little better.

"You like football now?" I asked and Mark nodded.

"But I still like soccer better," he clarified. 

I sighed. Somehow I knew the answer would be reversed if I'd asked him on a soccer field instead.

At the first game, Mark's enthusiasm went up again. Coach was passing out jerseys, and Mark grabbed at this jersey, beating out two other Adult Small size kids.

"Yes!" he shouted triumphantly. "I got number 10!" 

I remembered my brother Tim talking about jersey numbers when he played football, and how he always picked his favorite players' numbers.

"Cool!" I said. "Who wears number 10?" 

"My favorite player," Mark smiled. "Rooney."

I sighed. "Isn't Rooney a soccer player?" 

"Yup," Mark said. "Manchester United RULES!" He put his jersey on, smoothed it out, and ran off, whooping.

So the good news is, he's a little more excited to play football now. 

The bad news is, it's the wrong kind of football.