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In my last blog I wrote about how I incorporated "byes" as a family day for members of my soccer team. I always made it my policy that everyone on my team played three-quarters of the games and I alternated the players that played the entire game. I encouraged kids to take "byes" as a family day, so that when I had a fuller roster we could pull off the ¾ policy.

The first half of this post’s title takes direct aim at something I have spent a good deal of time referencing in many of my articles pertaining to youth sports. What I would like to do here is step back from that environment for a moment, taking a look at this idea of process over outcome, and the loss thereof, as it relates to the “big picture” – our society as a whole. Before I go ahead with my rant on this topic, it might be a good idea to define these two terms as they pertain to the relationship I am about to draw between them and what I see as a shift in American ideals.

For three days over Memorial Day weekend, it was my honor and sincere pleasure to be the keynote speaker and a guest observer and consultant at the 2009 National Annual General Meeting of the American Youth Soccer Organization (AYSO) in Dallas, Texas. The majority of the more than 700 folks in attendance were regional commissioners-the true backbone of the AYSO. The AYSO has long been at the top of my list of best national youth sports organizations. They have the right values, mission statement and an amazing number of dedicated volunteers and staff.

It's been awhile since my last blog post. I kept trying to sit down and write what was on my mind, which has been a lot of things, and everytime I tried, I just pushed it away and did something else. I want to write about the US Nationals we attended in early May, the national that proceeded Oregon. I want to write about the weeks of health issues, stress, anxiety and preparation that followed. I have thoughts on New Mexico, a trip that just finished up and finally, I want to write about the ins-and-outs, emotions, drama, fellowships, of all this racing and traveling.

A pink ribbon around my wrist marks me an insider, a camper, a racer, but I’m not.  I am the mother of a racer, a camper, an insider.  But, I am the one returning with food for the kids’ race weekend extravaganza.  After delivering groceries to my kids at the campground, I pull out of the mountain campsite nestled in a coastal forest and drive down the windy mountain highway back to my sister’s house where I will live in the comfort of a warm bed, hot water and a flat-screen TV, while my teenagers make due on old therm-a-rests, inside our twenty-year- old, and perfectly functiona