It is a three-on-two break: my daughter is at right forward, Chauna is at left forward and Lily is in the middle. Two fullbacks are caught on their heels desperately backpedaling, afraid of the inevitable. The goalie spreads her arms and crouches down, waiting for the ball, much like a cat about to lunge for a mouse. Lily looks at Chauna, but calls my daughter's name. She makes a perfect pass. My daughter shoots ... and misses wide right.

The three teammates quickly turn and prepare for the goalie kick. As they run past me, I hear Lily say, "That's OK, you'll get it next time."

I smile to myself, thankful to have witnessed the exchange.

After the game, my daughter walks off the field looking like she just came in from a thunderstorm. Others look the same. Like most weeks, it was a winning effort, and I am not talking final score. Some victories can't be measured in wins and losses.

Thanks to soccer, she is a part of something larger than herself. She is learning what it is to sacrifice for the team; to have the fate of others riding on her performance; and to celebrate and lament with others who share her passion. There are things that you can only experience as a team member.

Now in the game for nearly two years, the benefits are undeniable, though some were unforeseeable. At 10 years old, she is one of the youngest on the team, and it shows. She is smaller, less experienced and less skilled than most of the other girls. But that hasn't stopped her or the team.

Her coach is wonderful. She has all the traits one would want in a team leader. She is demanding yet supportive; strict yet nurturing; firm yet funny. She lives, eats and breathes t-e-a-m.

Just as impressive as the coach — and perhaps more surprising — are the older players. They have taken it upon themselves to mentor the younger girls. They cheer them on, make the extra pass and pick them up when they fall. They fight and scrap, not only for their own shot, but also for shots for the other kids.

I have quite a few years under this ever-expanding belt of mine, but I know for a fact that soon, anything I say to my daughter will have an asterisk by it, if for no other reason than it comes from Dad. It is nice to know that there are other sources of wisdom for her to tap into including her teammates and the game itself. Life is all about learning; I hope she is paying attention.

The reality is that my daughter will get many more shots on goal and she will likely miss as many as she makes. If she has a true athlete's temperament, she will remember the successes and forget the failures. More important, though, is that she remember the assists that she received from her teammates and that she return the favor.

One day she will be the mentor and it will be her turn to say, "That's OK, you'll get it next time," and a little girl will dust herself off and get back in the game. Perhaps, there will be a father, standing on the sideline smiling, thankful to have witnessed the exchange and OK with the asterisk.

Michael C. DeMattos is a member of the faculty at the University of Hawai'i School of Social Work. He lives in Kane'ohe with his wife, daughter, two dogs and two mice.