Monday, March 8, 2010

Trash Talkin'

Youngest is wingnut crazy about playing basketball and soccer. Aside from driving his sister batshit crazy, those are his favorite activities. Nearly every single day after school, rain or shine, he is out with his buddies, fellow second- and third-grader studs, playing soccer. If no one is around because it's a torrential rain storm, he plays basketball by himself.

There are a few other hardcore mothers like me who let their boys do this as well. A few have no choice, really; they don't come to pick up their kids for 20 or 30 minutes anyway, either trapped by job circumstances or electing to wait until the traffic nightmare that is school pick-up time diminish. Those are the ones who look at the crazy mothers watching on the sideline with a mixture of wonderment and confusion.

"Don't you have anything else better to do?" they surely wonder.

Youngest gets absolutely filthy this time of year. The boys seem to take a particularly perverse pleasure in unnecessarily diving for balls, in trampling through the mudholes that line the edges of the field, and in doing questionable side tactics or outright illegal takedowns. I am glad to be driving the Jeep, with its 150,000 miles on it and its permanent stench of wet dog, when he sits his muddied bum on the plush, decade-old leather seat.

The organized team sport du jour is basketball, and Youngest plays on a team with fellow nearly-8-year-old boys. Their opponents at Friday night's game were huge. I tried to remember if there is a faux puberty which befalls second graders, thinking that might be the explanation: the other team is just further along that growth spurt. Of course, I'm more apt to believe that it was rigged; that the coach is a league muckety-muck and he loaded his team with all of the Goliaths he could find.

Fear not, I'm not teaching my kid to be such a cynic and a poor sport, to boot.

It did occur to me though that we could give our boys a leg up for the next couple of seasons if we just took the time to school them in the art of trash talking. How shocked players on other teams would be if our little boys started razzing them with put-downs and obscenities.

It would be so f$#kin' cool.


Tara R. said...

Yeah, a few 8yos throwing down 'yo momma's would be awesome.

To keep the refs off their backs, if it sounds like a swear word, use it like a swear word:

Feng Shui
Lint Licker
Fahrvergn├╝gen (think VW)

Lori said...

I love the fake swear word idea, tara! Also, I totally agree with letting the boy get dirty after school. I used to let mine run in puddles and mud too, and I also endured the stares of other moms. But once, as my oldest was running back and forth through a huge puddle, someone walked by and said "you are a good mom". I'll never forget it!

Coal Miner's Granddaughter said...

BWHAHAHA! "Lint licker" - Tara R. you're too funny!

I, personally, prefer just to go straight to the heart of the matter and should "BUTT LICKER!"

mayberry said...

I let my kids stay after and play on the playground too. Why don't more people do this? It's better than taking them home and sticking them in front of the TV. (Which is where my child is now, but never mind.)


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