I have no way to spell this sound I am making so I will describe it to you. I’m currently doing a gurggle/hissing sound right now as I type out the post title. Today really starts the whole soccer season.
“But the soccer season just ended Hot Mess, what do you mean?”
I’ll tell you what I mean. The soccer “season” is just a myth. It’s a unicorn that will never be caught. NEVER! Soccer will become a season the day I announce I love wings. Neither will happen. You have the actual soccer games and you have multiple practices a week, for said games. You have indoor soccer and you have soccer camps. You have a week of conditioning where you watch your baby nearly pass out from heat exhaustion (at least that’s the horror story playing out in my mind) and lastly, you have weekend long tournaments hours away. The tournaments though can only be played in extreme weather, meaning either 98 degrees or snow and golf ball size hail.
Today was a 3v3 tournament. It’s stupid and like corporate phrases used in the workplace like”low-hanging fruit”, completely unnecessary. You have only 3 players against 3 in lieu of a full line up. There is no goalie and the goals are smaller. The halves are reduced to 10 minutes apiece and there are about 10 other new rules for this. It’s kind of like how when you overhear a child take a traditional game and announce, “Ok! We are going to have new rules for Twister and they are X, Y and Z.” Are you catching on to why I’m saying this is pointless?
I think I’m just grumpy because I got hit in the chest and face with a soccer ball today. No, correction. I was hit in the chest, face and leg. The irony is the first time it happened, I wasn’t even remotely close to a game taking place. We were waiting for the next game to begin under a tent, surrounded by other parents. When it hit me, I screamed loudly from the pain and the surprise. Then all the parents stopped what they were doing and just stared at me for a reaction. I wanted to cry because it hurt but I’m an adult and this didn’t classify as something you cry about. The little ass hol….the soccer player that completely missed the net, ran over to our group. I didn’t see him at first till several parents pointed in his direction so I could acknowledge he was talking to me. He was acting very shy and had a few fingers up to his mouth, clearly embarrassed for what had happened.
“Sorry,” he said quietly.
Honestly, the immature brain wanted to sneer at him and yell back, “whatever.” He wasn’t the only one embarrassed at the whole situation. Then mature brain kicked in to respond. I gave him a fake smile and called over sweetly, “that’s ok!”
Not saying it’s karma but not only was that kid on the team we were playing next but 30 minutes later he was being helped off the field from being hit by the ball.
Now that I think about it, it probably was karma because after I realized it was the same kid, I said under my breath, “serves ya’ right.” After that game we had another game to wait for in which I AGAIN get hit by a ball. I probably seemed like a jerk after the mom next to me apologized because I just laughed maniacally then announced, “this is the second time I’ve been hit by a ball today!”