After a tiring day from school, Kyle ran home quickly and kicked the doors open with his muddy shoes. He searched the house for his father. When he found him, he greeted him with a big hug.

"Dad! I have great news!" said Kyle. His serious father put his newspaper down and brushed the dust off his suit.

"What kind of news? You got an A for your test?" asked his father. Kyle shook his head.

"No, but this is even better! Two days ago our team won 1st place in the soccer league, and I was awarded the most valuable player! Here, I have my medal," Kyle said, digging through his overloaded backpack.

He pulled out the medal and showed it to his father. The old man wasn't interested; he picked up his newspaper and broke eye-contact.

"Wow, son. Tell me all about it," he said in a plain tone.

He read his newspaper and ignored his son as he excitedly told him all about the soccer tournament, his experience there and how the matches went. Kyle glanced at his father and saw that he wasn't paying attention.

"Dad, are you even listening?"

"Yes, I can hear you. So, who won?"

"Dad, we won. I already told you."

"Wow, congrats. What about your homework? Have you done it yet?"

Kyle remained silent, not answering a single word. His father put down his newspaper, sipped his hot coffee, and then sighed heavily.

"I thought so. Now go do your homework," his father told him.

"Yes, dad," Kyle replied.

He went upstairs, carrying his soccer ball in his right hand and his backpack on his shoulders. When he reached his bedroom, he tossed his backpack to the bed and kept his soccer ball. After that, he did his homework. Work work work. That was what his father always thought about. Working in the office, working at home, all about work! What was even worse was that he expected his son, Kyle, to be the same. But no. Kyle was work and play, but more on play. His father, however, was all work and no play.

Kyle wondered whether his mother was all work and no play too. He never knew what she was like, for she died while giving birth to him. The only time Kyle saw his mother was when he visited the cemetery every Christmas. The best glimpse of his mother Kyle could get was of her picture, which he kept on his bedside table.

Kyle finished his homework, prepared his backpack, and went downstairs to the dining hall. There, his father waited for his dinner. Though there were only two of them, the table was enough to seat sixteen people. Kyle washed his hands before sitting down at the table. His father noticed that Kyle didn't change his clothes, so he asked him,

"Why didn't you change your clothes?"

"I'll change them later, after I take a shower," Kyle replied.

Dinner was served, and they ate quietly. Not a single word was uttered, except when his father wanted his champagne to be refilled. Kyle could stand the silence, but he wanted to make use of the time he had with his father while they were still eating. While he wasn't working. Kyle opened his mouth and started a conversation.

"Dad, you know that I'll turn eighteen in a few months, right?"

"Really? You're turning eighteen? I mean, of course I know! What kind of father wouldn't remember his son's birthday?"

"Right. So, my soccer coach said that if I'm old enough, I might be able to play for the state! Think of it! Your son, at age eighteen, already a professional soccer player!" Kyle said excitedly. His father, however, wasn't amused.

"Don't you have more important things to focus on, son? Like school?"

"Well, yeah, but I'm doing fine."

"What scores do you usually get?"

"Umm, I usually get C's and some B's. I got one or two A's so far?" Kyle told his father. The old man sighed heavily and looked disappointedly at his son.

"Kyle, I know that you've got a talent in soccer and that you're passionate about it, but you need to focus more on your studies. You used to be a straight-A student until you joined the soccer team in fourth Grade," he said, placing his spoon on the plate.

"Oh, so what you're saying is that soccer makes people less intelligent? Is that what you're trying to say, dad?" said Kyle. He didn't stop eating, but he ate very slowly.

"Let me finish! What I'm saying is that soccer could be beneficial, but too much isn't good."

"If I did play too much soccer, then I would've failed every class! But I didn't."

"Still, son. I want you to catch up. The world's more competitive now, and I want you to be able to compete. From now on, absolutely no playtime on weekdays. And if you want to play soccer, you'll have to wait till the weekends."

"What? But I have soccer training every Tuesday and Thursday!"

"That's why I'll sign you off the soccer team."

"What? Dad, you can't do this to me!"

"Yes, I can! I'm your father, so I have the right!"

Kyle stopped eating and wiped his mouth with his napkin.

"Excuse me, please," said Kyle, standing up from his seat.

He walked to the bathroom to take a shower and dressed up in striped pajamas. He then went to his room to study, just like what his father told him. After reading a stack of books, his father came to the room to check on his son.

"I'm reading books, just like what you told me to," said Kyle.

"Good, good. You've your A levels coming up, so you better study more."

"I have a question," said Kyle, closing his book.

"Yes, my son?"

"Can you please not sign me off the soccer team? I promise I'll study harder. I'll give you five A's in-a-row and in exchange you won't make me quit. How does that sound?" said Kyle, making a bet. To Kyle's surprise, his father was interested in the bet.

"Fine, but you better give me those five A's by next week. If not, say goodbye to the soccer team."

"You've got a deal," said Kyle.

The next week, Kyle collected all his test papers and handed them to his father. He had ten tests that week, so at least half of them should score an A. To his father's surprise, all of them were A's!

"I guess you owe me something!" Kyle smirked.

"Ten A's, that's good enough. Fine, you can continue playing soccer."

"Yes!" Kyle cheered. The boy danced and jumped around elatedly. He then thanked his father and showered his face with kisses to show his gratitude. He ran upstairs to celebrate by himself in his room.

But seven months later, things didn't go so well.

Kyle and his peers had sat for the examinations. Despite studying day and night, when Kyle received his results, they stated that he failed miserably! Kyle was shocked; how could this be? He knew his father would be furious, so he hid his results. Unfortunately, his father did find out.

"See what happens when you don't study enough? Now look! Look at these papers! Do you think I'll be satisfied with this?" his father shouted, throwing the papers at his son's face.

"I did study, but..."

"...but you were too busy playing, huh? Well then, I'll teach you a lesson. No more soccer, ever!"

"What? But dad, can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"The state soccer tryouts are next week, so maybe I can tryout for the state team?" Kyle asked timidly. Fury burned brighter in his father's eyes.

"You think I'll let you audition after this?" his father vociferated, "Of course not! Now go to your room, because you're grounded! For a month!"

"But dad..."

"Don't say anything! Now go!"

Kyle ran to his room and locked himself in. He cried till he slept. If only his father understood him. Yes, bad scores are upsetting, but he swore that he studied the whole time! He didn't even want to listen to his side of the story! Kyle picked up his secret diary and wrote a new entry, letting his painful tears fall to the pages.

But it couldn't be worse, could it?