Today is my first day of soccer practice.

I haven't said that sentence since I was 16 years old -- I quit midway through that season, my junior year at Strake, after scoring a goal on a meaningless PK in the final seconds of a 7-0 victory. I hated my coach; he hated me; and I figured it would be nice to go out like Ted Williams. Turning in my jersey the next afternoon in his office -- I was quitting to play a new sport at my school, lacrosse -- meant that the last kick of my life would be a goal.

I would have used MJ in that analogy had the Wizards incident not taken place.

This time around, I'm coaching. Twerner and I are the coaches. Diana, a sixth grader on the team, and the reason I even got asked to do this by my uncle Dan, is a cousin to both of us, through marriage. What does that make Twerner to me? My cousin's cousin? Is this the context you use the term "once removed"?

Fascinating times we live in.

I was really excited when I first found out I'd be coaching 5th/6th grade girls soccer at AOS, until I found out it's not girls soccer. Tell me something: what kind of 11 year old dude is playing on a team that's majority girls? It's about 40 percent male, the make up of this squad.

At least one of the kids, Stephen, has the last name Wang.

"God DAMNIT WANG!'

Can't wait for that.

We're in charge of team names, Twerner and I, and that annoying statistic now kills my "Ladybugs" idea. There's only room for one Jonathan Brandis.

"I say we either do Mighty Ducks or the Little Giants," Twerner said on the phone today, before asking me if I had a whistle, or a ball, or anything at all, a few hours before our first practice.

"Definitely Mighty Ducks."

"Yeah, and that way, we can get all the parents to just go, 'Quack, QUACK, QUACK, QUACK!'"

Expect tons of great stories about the Mighty Ducks over the next two months.