Chapter 7 – Title: The Big News
Thijs sat cross-legged on the living room floor, his football resting beside him. The TV was on, playing a children's show, but he wasn't really watching. His eyes kept drifting to his parents, who were sitting together on the couch, whispering back and forth.
He picked at a loose thread on the carpet. His heart beat a little faster every time his father glanced his way.
They're hiding something, Thijs thought. Maybe it's about football.
Finally, his father cleared his throat. "Thijs?"
Thijs looked up quickly. "Yeah?"
His mother smiled. "Remember how we talked about you joining a football club?"
Thijs nodded. "Did they say yes?"
His father's eyes twinkled. "They sure did. You've been accepted to play with RC Huissen."
Thijs blinked. "RC Huissen?"
"It's a football club here in Huissen," his father explained. "Not a big club from TV, but a good place for kids to learn and play football."
Thijs tilted his head. "So… I'll have a team?"
His mother nodded. "Yes. You'll practice with other kids, play matches, and wear the club's colours."
Thijs felt something twist in his chest — a mix of excitement and nerves.
"What colours?" he asked softly.
"White and blue," his father said. "Those are RC Huissen's colours."
Thijs repeated the words under his breath, testing how they sounded. "RC Huissen…"
His mother squeezed his hand gently. "Your first training is next week. On Wednesday."
"Wednesday…" Thijs murmured, his mind already racing ahead.
He imagined himself on a grassy field in a real jersey, running beside teammates, hearing a coach call out his name.
It's starting, he thought. This is my first step back onto the pitch.
A small smile tugged at his lips. He picked up his football and held it close, feeling its familiar shape against his chest.
His father ruffled his hair. "We're proud of you, Thijs."
Thijs grinned, eyes shining. "Thanks, Mum. Thanks, Dad."
Somewhere deep inside, a quiet voice whispered:
This time… I'll go all the way.
Thijs sat back on his heels, hugging his football against his chest. His mind buzzed with a thousand questions all at once.
"So… when do I get my shirt?" he asked, glancing from his mother to his father.
His father chuckled. "Not today, champ. Your first training is next Wednesday. The coach will tell you everything then."
Thijs shifted the ball in his hands. "Is it far away?"
"Not really," his mother said. "It's just a short bike ride from here. We'll take you the first time."
Thijs nodded. "How many kids are in the team?"
His father raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure. Maybe ten, maybe twelve. Enough to play matches."
Thijs's eyes lit up. "Do we get to play real games?"
"Of course," his father said, smiling. "Small matches. Nothing too serious yet. But you'll learn a lot."
Thijs hugged his ball tighter, feeling excitement thrumming in his chest.
"I want to be ready," he said firmly. "I'm going to practice every day."
His mother laughed softly. "I'm sure you will. Just remember — it's also about having fun."
"I know," Thijs said, his eyes serious. "But I still want to be the best I can."
His father reached out and ruffled his hair. "That's the spirit."
Thijs jumped to his feet. "Can I go practice in the yard?"
"Of course," his mother said. "Just don't forget to come in for dinner."
Thijs shot toward the back door, his ball tucked under his arm.
At the doorway, he turned back.
"Thanks for letting me join RC Huissen," he said.
His father grinned. "You're going to love it."
Thijs pushed open the door and stepped outside into the cool air, his ball already bouncing lightly on his foot.
This time… I'm going to keep moving forward.
The door clicked shut as Thijs ran outside, his excited footsteps fading across the yard.
Inside, his parents sat together on the couch for a moment, smiling after him.
"He really loves it," his mother said softly. "It's like he's been waiting for this forever."
His father nodded. "I know. He's so focused sometimes. Almost like an older kid."
"He's only four," his mother said, shaking her head with a gentle laugh. "But the way he talks about practicing… it's like football is the most important thing in the world."
"For him, maybe it is," his father said. "At least right now."
His mother grew quiet, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "Do you think it's too much? He's so serious sometimes. I just want him to enjoy being a kid."
"I know," his father said. "But maybe football is how he is a kid. It makes him happy. Let him go at his own pace."
His mother exhaled, then smiled again. "I guess you're right."
They both turned to look out the window. Through the glass, they could see Thijs in the yard, kicking his ball back and forth, eyes shining with determination.
His mother reached over and squeezed her husband's hand. "I just hope he finds friends who love it as much as he does."
"Maybe he already has," his father said. "Sven seemed pretty happy out there."
His mother chuckled. "True. Even if he can't kick straight yet."
They laughed quietly together, feeling a warmth settle between them.
Outside, Thijs was lining up another shot, completely lost in his own little world.