Mom is back, and all is right with the world. It’s amazing how quickly the family can slip back into business as usual. I don’t know why this surprises me. We shift back into normalcy pretty quick after my business trips, so it why should Mom’s vacation be any different.
This morning dawned rainy and cold. Not a very promising start for the girl’s soccer game. By 10:30 the rain had stopped, but the field was a pit of mud. I wasn’t sure how the girls would handle it. They’ve been working hard, and are finally starting to show a little aggression, but would they be willing to get down and dirty?
Well I needn’t have worried. My first clue that something was different, was when half the girls took mud from the field and smeared it on their face like war paint. And folks let me tell you, they came prepared for a war.
The teams went up and down the field on each other all game long. Bodies were flying, mud was splattering, and at half time the referee stopped by to have a word with me.
“Coach, uh… can I talk to you?”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“Well, I’m not sure how to put this, but, uh… some of the girls have been swearing out there on the field.”
“What? Really? Who?”
“Well… several. Some on both teams. I’m going to give you a warning, and ask you to talk to the team. The next time I’m giving ’em a card”
“OK sir, I’ll have a talk with them”.
As I turned back towards the sideline, all I could think was “Wow. Am I a master motivator or what? I should be giving motivational speeches for a living.”
I have to say, I was kind of proud of them. Of course, I’m supposed to be the adult though, so I had to put on my best grown up voice, and call the girls around to have a talk with them. The whole “you are representing Our Lady of the Subdural Hematoma… blah, blah, blah., sportsmanship… blah, blah, blah, respect,… blah, blah, blah character.”
I felt like Sister Josepha. Not something I anticipated having to do, but then again, times are different. All the nuns are dead now, and I think the kids parents probably cuss a little more than our folks did. Well, if their parents are anything like me and Mrs. 20 Prospect, it probably sounds like the boiler room of a Navy ship around their houses.
Of course, the 5th graders put on their haloes, and looked up at me as sweet and innocent as could be. How could such little princesses possibly be cursing like sailors out there?
Hmmm… maybe the war paint gave them away.
So after denials, and assurances that they would never, ever, say a swear word on the soccer field, they headed out for the second half.
The game ended in a draw, and I couldn’t have been more proud of them. We showed those rich kids from Highland Park how we roll in the North Metro. That’s what I’m talking about…
Next game, I’m thinking of changing our nickname from the Jaguar’s to the “Potty Mouthed Hussies”