Mitoma's 1mm changed my son, who couldn't finish a race to the end

My six-year-old son is good at giving up.

Even when racing,
if he thought, 'I can't win anymore' halfway through, he would stop running and sit down right there.

Whether playing shogi or cards,
if he thought, 'I can't win anymore,' he would hide somewhere without even saying, 'I lost.'

The people he played with were usually left feeling frustrated.
However, perhaps because he hadn't played it out to the end, my son himself didn't seem regretful and would just look smug.

I used to think that
this habit was just something that couldn't be helped.
His older sister,
who was born two years earlier and always played with him,
could do anything well.

Since both my husband and I were the eldest children ourselves, we were probably the only ones in our family of four who understood the frustration of not being able to win no matter what you do.

'Try your best and don't give up until the end,'
I would say, but
it didn't resonate with him at all.
He would just give up again next time.

I wondered if it was his own way of self-defense for constantly losing, so I didn't know what else to say, and I couldn't force him to do anything.


I just
worried about whether he would be okay as an adult.
What kind of adult would he become?
Would he just run away from everything halfway through?

My son started playing soccer last January.

It was popular at his kindergarten at the time, and he seemed to think, 'I'm fast at running and maybe I like sports,' so he told me he wanted to do it himself.

He seemed to enjoy the weekly soccer class as an extension of play.
In addition, he read the manga 'Ao Ashi,' learned the rules of soccer, and gradually increased his passion for the sport.

However, as always,
he didn't show any attitude of being obsessed with winning.

Even when we played soccer together at the park,
if he was about to lose, as usual, he would stop halfway and
'I'm not playing soccer anymore~'
saying that, he would slip away.

On the way home from soccer class,
'My team lost at soccer today~'
he would sometimes say things like that, but he didn't show any particular signs of regret and was his usual calm self.

Meanwhile,
the Soccer World Cup started in November.

Our family rarely watches TV, but
since my son was learning soccer,
we checked the late-night broadcasts, recorded them,
and watched the recordings the next day, repeating this day after day.

When I taught him the names of the countries and players participating,
their positions and roles,
and the rules while watching TV,
it seemed to become more and more interesting to him.

During Japan's matches,
he would be glued to the TV,
wearing a self-made flag and hat
made of drawing paper and cardboard, cheering them on.

Seeing Japan defeat Germany and Spain,
he rejoiced with his whole body.

✴︎

'Mom, big sister, let's go play soccer!'
The number of times he invited us to the park increased.

I could feel from his behavior
that he enjoyed the World Cup.

However, I didn't expect any further changes.

That day,
after we had been kicking the ball around at the park,
for some reason,
my daughter and son started a race.

I was sitting on a bench
near the finish line of the race, watching them.
It's a large park, so there was quite a distance.

My daughter and son, looking like tiny specks, lined up at the starting line.

Ready, set, go!
(I couldn't hear it, but I knew when it was said)

They run and run.

Ah, as expected, my daughter is faster again today.
My son is being left behind.

I thought he would probably stop running again.
My daughter would probably get angry.

That was when I thought that.

"Mitoma's 1mm!!!"

My son shouted in a voice that carried all the way to me.
And then, he kept running.

He went past the point where he would usually stop,
and while leaning forward,
he kept desperately swinging his arms and legs.

"Huh?"
I was surprised.

I had never heard the phrase "Mitoma's 1mm" from my son's mouth before.
Of course, we watched that Japan vs. Spain match. He had seen Mitoma-senshu pick up the ball right on the line. And he must have seen it frequently in the news and special soccer programs that followed.
But I never imagined it had such an influence on him.
As a symbol of the spirit of not giving up,
it was engraved in my son's heart,
I learned for the first time at that moment.

Meanwhile, my daughter, who was ahead,
is a bookworm who doesn't usually play sports.
She is fast over short distances, but
she didn't have the stamina to run at full speed for a long distance.

Gradually, my son was catching up.
Watching that,
I felt something hot welling up inside me.

Ah, it's amazing.
Sports are amazing.
People are so amazing.

Even without me holding his hand and teaching him everything from one to ten,
my son can properly feel things through the world and people,
feel them in his own way,
and turn them into his own strength.

It was a little lonely,
but more than that, it was incredibly reliable.

If you don't give up, something will happen.
To soccer, which moved my son's heart like that,
and to Mitoma-senshu, who showed us such a wonderful play,
I have nothing but gratitude.

Even so, when they crossed the finish line in front of me,
as expected,my daughter was slightly faster.

"Daughter wins! Son loses!"

My daughter, while out of breath,
still said to my son, looking incredibly proud.
My daughter had finally "won."
She had finally beaten my son, who always kept running away.
She must have been happy.

In contrast, my son.

"Waaaaah!"

He cried.

"You big dummy, sister!"

He cried.

He sat on the ground, kicked his legs,
and cried his heart out, kicking up dust.

"It can't be helped, a win is a win!"
"But!!! Because!!!"

His face was a mess of tears, snot, and dirt.
He looked so frustrated.

If it were real,
a mother's heart would probably feel sorry for him
seeing a face like that, but
I was happy.

It is a frustration that only those who run to the end can feel.

My son was properly chewing on the feeling of "frustration" until his teeth ground together,
and he was struggling to somehow let it out.

I was worried that my son would grow up into an adult without ever seeing this,
but I was finally able to see that look and that expression on my son.

✴︎
In January, we were watching high school soccer as a family.

Higashiyama High School in Kyoto, where my parents are, had made a great leap to the finals.

When they conceded the third goal to Okayama Gakugeikan in the final,
I said without thinking,

"Ah!"
A third goal at this timing.
Maybe they'll lose now..."

Then, my son said,

" Mom!
It's Mitoma's 1mm!
The match isn't over yet!"

he chided me.

"Ah, you're right!
Mom was about to give up.
There's still time left, isn't there."

My son nodded with satisfaction,
and continued to cheer for Higashiyama High School until the very end of the match.

And then,
when Higashiyama's defeat was decided, he was so frustrated that he
raised his voice again,
and cried his eyes out.
And after he finished crying for a while,

"I wonder if Grandma and Grandpa are crying too..."

he even worried about his grandparents living in Kyoto. He was even imagining someone else's frustration.

My son's changes
kept surprising me as a mother.

✴︎
From now on, what kind of people,
and what kind of world will this child meet,
and how will he change?

I am very happy that I can watch over that by his side for a little while longer.