Moving to the UK when my kids were 3 and 5 meant that they had an entirely different exposure to team sports than their friends back here in the US; for my son, it meant choosing between soccer, rugby and cricket. Soccer it was, and has been ever since. My mud room is littered with soccer kit, my car often filled with the funk that can only be caused by sweaty goalkeeper gloves, I’ve pulled things shooting on my kid in the yard when friends weren’t available (and trust me, it’s not a pretty sight), my kid can cite player stats better than any bookmaker in Vegas and the battle for recording space on the…