Sunny, 80 degrees
Humidity, low
The teams take the field
One red, one blue
When last we met
they decimated our girls, those reds
6-0
and left a crying goalie
to drown her sorrows in a McFlurry
(snack-size, of course)
Two weeks later
Our girls are ready
They have worked on their game
All kinds of defensive and offensive tactics
of which I understand nothing
(especially off sides,
which makes as much sense to me as the electoral college)
We start out strong
with a goal
(though off sides, apparently)
But the ref
she did not call it
Funny how no one points out a bad call when it favors them
With the red team
there is a man
who sounds like Louis Armstrong,
if Louis Armstrong were irate
and overly invested in
a U9 girls travel soccer game
(and also, if he were still alive)
He yells
And he screams
I fear he may have a heart attack
But to no avail
Our girls prevail
1-0
Our team runs through a tunnel of cheering parents
The reds leave, dejected
a consolation of home-baked cookies in their hands
For the long drive back to Suffern
I like that it's a lament even though your team won.
ReplyDeleteLamentation comes so naturally to me, I even lament when you're supposed to celebrate.
DeleteNice piece of writing! But I don't even want to think of the "Canterbury Tales" with a soccer mom among the pilgrims ;)
ReplyDelete