Eldest is determined to be on the losingest team each year in soccer. It looks like he's in for a threepeat this year.
His U14 team took a pounding in West Marin Sunday. The team they played had 16 players, including five girls. And, oh, yeah, a midget.
After a humiliating defeat, Eldest and some other boys, including a fair-haired
Goldilocks Samson of a boy, were laughing as the fair-haired lad loudly recounted how one of the girls on the opposing team told him he should cut his hair. His response, he tells the boys, was to tell her to, "F$*( off." The boys all laugh, of course, as 12-year-old (and 13-year-old) boys are apt to do.
Pete hears them, turns and says, very loudly, "I wouldn't be laughing it up so much, lads, you just got whupped by a bunch of girls and a midget."
["Midget" is politically correct, still, yeah? Am I going to be flamed soon by some Little People? Or is "Little People" just a Fisher-Price trademark and they'll be after me? Who the hell can keep up?]
* * *
Meanwhile, Youngest's team was whuppin' the crap out of another U8 team -- of all boys, mind you -- on Saturday. One of the officials in the league came up to our coach and told her to tell our boys to stop scoring. "I know it's hard, but it's just not fair to the other team."
I loudly say, "All right, boys, hands behind your backs and let's sing Kumbaya."
After consulting with our coach, I go to the other team's coach and tell him, by all means, field an extra player. His response?
"It is what it is."
Yes, it is.
Now that's the kind of coach I want my kids to have.
Sometimes you get your ass whupped by a bunch of girls and midgets. And sometimes you do the whupping.
I've found that, generally speaking, it works itself out over a lifetime.