Cathy in the Wright

Scraping The Bottom Of The Blog Material Barrel

When my sister-in-law (firey, red-headed sheriff's deputy) starts to threaten me about my lack of posting...I take it very seriously. I make it a policy to never, ever deliberately provoke Aunt S.

With that preamble, I dedicate the next three or four balsa-weight paragraphs to her.

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Sunday was all soccer, all day. My first game I played goalie the first half. No one ever likes to play in net, but given the condition of the field after an all-morning soaking rain...my little world behind the 18-yard line was prime real estate. I didn't see a lot of action, but I also emerged the cleanest player of the game.

Game Two: Outdoor, but artificial turf, so no mud. The rain set in again, soaking us all to the bone. No one seemed to mind. Even the folks from the wedding reception at the attached city center braved the drizzle to come outside and watch during the slow dances.

After the game, a handful of us went out to eat. I had some clean clothes in the car and I changed in the restaurant bathroom. While the others had at most a spare t-shirt, I was completely comfy and warm. Nothing like a dry pair of undies to make all right in the world.

During the meal, Dwight mentioned he needed a couple of subs for his men's league that evening, so I wound up playing Game Three: indoor, artificial turf against an over-35 men's team. Dwight assured me no one would care about me playing in a men's league. I think the other team was a little miffed at first; I could sense the "we're going to have to take it easy on the chick" mentality. So I checked their best forward into the boards early on and that did away with any gender sensitivity. We won handily. League fee: $50. Team jersey: $30. Beaten by a girl in your men's league: priceless.

The highlight of the game wasn't a girl on the field however. Towards the end of the game, one of our defenders got shoved in the back by the same forward I checked into the boards earlier. This forward had been hacking and shoving people the entire game. Ray, our man, got so fed up that he rounded on the guy, grabbed him by the throat, shoved him backwards several feet into the goal post and screamed at him. I thought we had seen the last of Ray, but the ref must have had it with their guy as well, because he only made both men go sit off for five minutes. The other team was hoping to see Ray crucified. Beaten by a girl and victimized by an unjust referee. Not a good night for our opponents.

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Apologies to Gary. I know how much you love soccer-blogging. Thanks for keeping me on your distribution list; I love getting all that stuff.

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That's it for now. Tomorrow I may have some better material. I'm heading to the nursing home as usual, but this time without the dog. In the morning, the residents have their annual fall field trip to the golf course next door, and I've been recruited to chauffeur an old-timer around in an EZ-Go. If I'm lucky, I'll get Mr. E. He's a big guy, and with that extra weight, we could really leave some cool marks in the rain-soaked fairways.

Posted by Cathy at September 26, 2005 08:24 PM