Amelia's first day of soccer

Oh, where to even start. This is a novel, but a good story. You can skip to the end of this and see her playing in the video. Cliff notes version: hated it for 50 minutes, loved it for 10. Let's hope next week is more of a success.
The whole story, every little painful detail:
We decided to let Amelia pick some rec center classes. She chose soccer and gymnastics. I think soccer because Olivia (the character she was for Halloween) plays soccer, and gymnastics because she saw girls wearing leotards and she thought it was close enough to being a ballerina. We got her all signed up and just had to wait a week. Waiting a week for anything with Amelia is pure agony. Most of the time if we know something special is coming up, we keep it a secret until sometimes the day of or the night before to avoid the constant questions of "is it today" and "when are we going to.....". I told her the day I signed her up because she had to endure a slew of shots and blood being drawn (see my older post) so I thought it would be a good idea to let her know about soccer to try and get her mind of her pain. By the time the ibuprofen kicked in, I regretted it. Everyday until then we were asked if it was"soccer day" yet. No, not yet, no Amelia, then an explanation of the days of the week, showing her the calendar marked with a picture of a soccer ball on the day she will go, counting the days together to see if that would sink in to her that it's not today. It didn't. But it wasn't that annoying since we were happy to see her excited.
First thing Amelia needs to know, "what can I wear to soccer?" She, of course, must be fashionable. Soccer is merely a name we call an opportunity to have a new dress up outfit. But, she was right to be concerned, we didn't even own a pair of sneakers or sweatpants for her. Those are not fancy!!! Luckily I had stashed a pair of hand-me-down shoes from her cousin Claire that fit perfectly and were purple and the same brand as my shoes (matching mom is a big deal to her) Thanks Ju!! Then on to find 2 pair of warm up pants. In my mind, we're set. The night before, when she is supposed to be sleeping, she is still figuring out her outfit and yelling to us from her bed which pants, socks, shoes, hair accessories and shirt she will wear. Tuesday morning at the break of dawn we hear, "It's soccer day!!!" The rushing of feet to come in and ask what shirt she will wear, since we didn't buy a new shirt specifically for soccer, she was having a hard time visualizing the full costume. Mind you, it doesn't start until 3:30. It's before 7am!!! We painstakingly get thru the day and it is here, 3pm, time to start getting dressed, braid hair and all that for soccer.
Loaded in the car and we pull up, she is so excited. I asked her if she was feeling scared, and she exclaimed "no" so quickly and excitedly I was surprised, but relieved. This is going to be so much better than I thought. We walk around the car towards the field and the clinging starts. OK, it's expected. Get to the coach and he asks her her name and she boldly answers, Amelia, while still smiling. Coach tells her to pick a ball and play with it until everyone else gets there. Amelia finds a pink one and is thrilled. She stands there waiting and then it happens.
She turns around and I see the panic in her eyes. She doesn't know anyone, she doesn't know how to play soccer, she wants mom and Ben to play with her, not these people, the sun is in her eyes and her sunglasses are in the car, she's cold. Some explanations and deep breaths to get her relaxed. Not feeling like we are in trouble yet. Coach gets them started with some warm ups and it's too much. Here comes the uncontrollable sobbing while racing off the field to bury her head in me. Coach says that if they are feeling uncomfortable then parents can join in. I did, but it wasn't seeming to help. 30 minutes of sudden outbursts of tears and the following comments (plus more that I can't remember) in her loudest voice, "I don't like soccer", "this is NOT fun", "no one is playing with me", "I NEVER said I wanted to play soccer", "I am done, I want to go home now", "I don't like running", "I don't know how to jump", "I am going to throw up (gag, dry heave)" any desperate attempt to get out of there. I contemplated leaving but I knew that it would make an impression on her that would never be able to be erased. Besides the fact that I am totally embarrassed at my child's seemingly spoiled brat outbursts, I am getting frustrated that she isn't even trying and find myself at some point saying, "I paid for this class and you are going to get out there and have fun". Cringe!!
At 40 minutes, she is not crying, but dragging her feet and flopping her arms and looking at everyone with a sheer disgust.
At 45 minutes, it is time to actually play a game. Coach hands out pennies. Amelia gets a green one, not a red one. I am sure that will set her off. It did, but I quickly marketed it that the only other girl is also on her team and wearing green, and look at how cool these shirts are you can just wear them over your clothes!!! Crisis averted. Then she is starting to actually participate and she's smiling.
At 50 minutes she runs to me and says, "This is so fun. I LOVE soccer. I want to do this every week. I can't wait to play again" Success.
Sticking thru 50 minutes of agony for 10 minutes of joy. Isn't that basically the overall ratio of our pain to joy with kids?? And I would do it all over again!! Maybe.

Here's a video. Please mute my annoying screaming. But this one is one of her actually kicking it and running towards the right goal. It's pretty cute. And the coach is so overly positive about her kicking it because of all the previous drama. I thought he was great to be so positive to her.