My Wide World of Sports

Field hockey season is finally over. Peachie, in her first year as a varsity coach, led her team to the best record in the school’s history.  Of course, that doesn’t really say much as the team has always been historically weak.  Many great players have come through the program, but there were never enough good players to gel as a great team.  In fact, one year they were almost to the end of the season, playing an away game, when our team scored a goal.  Our parents and fans went berserk with cheering.  The other team’s fans looked over, a bit disgusted with our ‘over the top’ enthusiasm until we explained that it was the very first goal our team had scored all season.  Then even the opposition started cheering.  Yep, our team got pity applause.

This year their final record was 7 - 5 which far exceeded the former best record of 4 wins.  They went to sectionals where they unfortunately lost on a bad call which took away a goal that was later verified by film footage.  That was okay by me though as it starts to get pretty darn cold sitting outside for a couple of hours in November.  But I did attend every game except for one night game that conflicted with a work meeting.  It was actually relaxing to watch a game where I didn’t have to worry about my daughter getting injured.   Over the years I have watched my girls break numerous fingers, a quad muscle tear, rolled ankles (too many to count ), broken noses (3 times!)  a dislocated knee cap and a fractured eye socket.   

This year Peachie made us particularly proud when a male referee gave one of her players a green card and then told Peachie the player was carded for being a bitch.  Peachie, in no uncertain terms and in front of a bleacher full of parents, told the ref that that was an inappropriate term to use for a young female athlete and that she would make sure he never worked another game in our division. She did, and he didn’t.  That’s my girl!

After field hockey I thought I was done for a bit until Martha talked Beaner into coaching a 5th grade girls’ basketball team. Oy!  Of course, after spending years going to high school and college games, it is kind of fun to watch little girls who are just learning the game.  Their jerseys are longer than their shorts.  They carry the ball down the court forgetting to dribble, pass directly to the other team, have no idea that there is a difference between offence and defense, and often shoot at the wrong hoop scoring for the opposing team.  What makes it even more entertaining is that one girl speaks no English so her mother sits on the bench as a translator. The mother played ball in China and Beaner strongly suspects that the mother is giving different instructions than the plays she is calling in order to make her daughter the star of the team.  I particularly like that their plays are called things like “cupcake” and “unicorn". Yeah, that puts fear into the other team. And I do enjoy Beaner complaining that kids "just don't listen to her". "Really? What a surprise". But unlike the parents who seem to think that their daughter is one step away from a full ride to UConn and continually shout out instructions and criticisms, I can just sit and smile and enjoy the girls having fun.  Not a bad way to spend an hour.

And this week Martha started tryouts for her junior varsity high school team.  From now until mid February I will barely see her.  They practice almost every evening and have games on Tuesdays and Fridays. most of which I will attend.

Growing up I was always athletic, although I only enjoyed solo sports - surfing, skiing, hiking - rather than competitive sports which I never played.  I never imagined that sitting on fields and in gyms, would dominate my life.  But I am going to enjoy this phase when my family are all coaches and I don’t have to worry about them getting hurt.  All too soon I will be back on those fields, chewing my fingers off, worrying about some grandchild getting kicked in the head . . . unless I can convince them to play the piano instead.