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Football

Posted by Mummy Dearest on Mar-24-2002


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I am definitely going to stop grumbling and moaning about having to go to The Boy’s football games at 9.30 on Saturday morning. Since The Girl has joined the Scouts, The Father and I now take turns going to The Boy’s games : The Father goes to the ‘out’ games, I go to the ‘home’ games. To tell the truth, I have really enjoyed the two games I have gone to.

One reason is that The Boy is either the best or second best player on his team ( I won’t get too puffed up with pride here, they lost their last game 1- 11. In fact, they have only won one game, and that was because the other team didn’t show up. So The Boy is a big fish in a very small pond). I was pleasantly surprised to see how well he played ( he is one of two forwards) and what a good attitude he has towards the game.

The team has 8 players between 5 and 6 years old, and at their level, added inches really make a difference in how quickly they can run. The Boy is quite fast, and the same rather uncoordinated movements that have landed him in physical therapy are an asset on the field : he doesn’t run in a straight line, but rather stumbles and flails about, looking like he is going to trip any moment so he is given a wider than usual berth. The team does have one very tall boy, Ruud, who should be an asset, but he isn’t. Twice last Saturday, he was standing alone in an area of the field when a pass was made to him, moments with brilliant possibilities. The first time, he was busy inspecting something he had picked out of his nose and didn’t even see the ball there in front of him, the second time he was looking at the bottom of his shoe and therefore failed to see the ball.

The Boy says Ruud is afraid of the ball.

I really enjoyed last Saturday. After the other team had scored about 8 times, the fervent supporters of the Herptse Boys were heard to cheer wildly when the team simply managed to avoid yet another goal by Rosmalen. I was cheering wildly as well.

There are times when they remind me of nothing so much as those little graphic fluffies you see , you know the ones where when you move your cursor around , a flock of butterflies follows in it’s wake : 14 little kids running after a ball.

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