Do NOT Copy

Do NOT Copy

The First Football Game of the Year

My son is in the Pop Werner Football program. I may have mentioned that they had a game last weekend. It's been a week already? Geez, where did that time go???Anyway, I promised to tell you about it after I got some rest. I suppose a week's worth of rest is plenty long enough!

They played a game an hour's drive from our home field last weekend. He was so excited about his first game he just couldn't stop talking about it. It's good to see him so into a sport. He had gotten his uniform after practice a couple of days earlier. Since they had been fitted for their practice uniforms by the coaches, I assumed that they knew his size and his uniform would be the same size. Well, do you know what happens when you assume? Ass-U-me. Yup.

It was two hours to game time. I had him put his uniform on before we hit the road. No busses for his team, we all drove our own kids. I went out to check the van while he got ready. We were planning on going to MIL's house right after the game so I made sure we had all of the neccessary tools packed up before we left home. We had a lot of projects to get done for her. We had packed the van up the night before so there was no need to worry really. I also had to check the cat's food and water, make sure all of the plants were watered, and clean the cat boxes one last time before we left.

The kids were supposed to be at the field a half hour before game time, so I planned on leaving the house an hour and a half early. In case we got lost or something, you know... I'd never been to the field before and Cheesehead had to work until the game started. I'm not always so great with directions when I have to follow road signs instead of landmarks. I had packed some sandwiches, drinks, and fruit in my lunch pail earlier that morning so I could just have them eat in the van. That way we wouldn't have a frantic lunch rush before we left for the game. If I had only known what was about to happen.

It was 15 minutes until I wanted to get going when I came in from making my final checks before vacation. I found my son with his game pants barely pulled up to his thighs. Frantically I start asking him why he's not ready yet. It's been 15 minutes for Pete's sake.He says his uniform doesn't fit. WHAT? It can't be! They knew his size!

I desperately try to pull his pants up for him. Maybe he just needs to put a little bit more muscle into it, he tends to pretend he can't do some things in order for me to feel sorry for him and just do it for him. They won't budge. Maybe we'll have better luck with the jersey? No such luck. He can get one arm in and it gets stuck on the shoulder pads. I'm practically choking the poor fellow. What do we do now?

Quickly I throw the practice pants and jersey into the dryer and have the kids start eating their lunch. Good thing I had washed the clothes before, they had been filthy. Too bad I'm such a dimwit that I didn't remember to dry the load earlier too. I decide to have the kids eat while we wait for the practice clothes to dry. I hope they dry faster if I put them in the dryer alone rather than with the rest of the clothes I had washed.

While the clothes are tumbling in the dryer I grab a phone book out of the junk drawer. I only know two of the coach's names. Does son know any more? Nope. Neither of them are listed. EEK. Maybe they're just not published? Nope. I remember that one of their phone numbers had been sent in an email so I turn on the computer and impatiently wait for it to boot up. It takes a year and a half in my mind, but the screen finally pops up. I pull up the emails. It's not there! I deleted it? I open the deleted files folder. Erased from there too? Oh no! I wanted to be able to tell them about the uniform mixup before the game! Oh, I know one of his friends' on the team parents names. Maybe they weren't bone headed enough to delete that email, I could ask them the phone number in it. I look them up in the phone book and with lightning quick fingers, I dial the number. An hour and a half til game time now. The phone rang about 20 times before I dejectledly hung up.

He's upset. He doesn't think he'll get to play in the game. I check his clothes. They're dry, so I throw them in a bag just in case. Luckily the bag is big enough for everything including his pads, helmet, and both uniforms. I assure him that he'll play even if he needs to wear his practice uniform and we fly out the door. Fifteen minutes later than I wanted to leave. Oh well, it can't be helped!

My heart is racing from all of the fast paced activity. Whew, we're on the road. We should still be able to roll in just on time since we live 15 minutes closer to the town they're playing in than town is.

As I drive and try to clear my mind from unease, I can't help but have this gnawing feeling in the back of my mind. What is it? I absently munch my sandwich and stare blankly down the road. I'm sure glad we go through this town every time we go to MIL's, I didn't even need to look up how to get there on a map. About 1/2 way there I decide to start looking for the directions to the filed. I dig through my purse twice. Where are they? I dump it out on the seat next to me. I open every zipper. I can't look long, I am driving. I feel with my hands to make sure it all came out. The purse is empty. What did I do with them? I have my son look through my activity bag that I packed for Peanut. He digs through that twice. I have him page through every page of the book and notebook. They're nowhere to be found.

At least I have a cell phone, I can call Cheesehead at work and get the directions from him. I copied them down for each of us since we both had to drive seperatly. He answers and my phone drops the call immediately. I swear under my breath. No bars? Can this day GET any worse? I drive a couple more minutes. I know we're almost there. I NEED those directions! I call again and ask him the directions when I hear his voice. I tell him we need the directions. He snidely remarks that it sure is a good thing I forgot to put any money in his wallet, the directions are MUCH easier to find.

I'm driving, so I can't write them down. I tell son to remember them and repeat them to him as soon as I hear them. He writes the quickly into the notebook he found in the activity bag so we can't forget. We had to park about 4 blocks' distance from the field. It's 12:30.

We dash to the field and look up his coaches. They wonder why he isn't suited up, so I quickly explain and they wisk him off to get fitted for another uniform. Ten minutes to game time and son rushes over asking for his knee pads? HUH? They're in the game pants I sent with you! I rush after him. The coach is fumbling the pads nervously. He had found them, but it's been years since he's had to sting pads on a belt. Normally I make son do this now that he's older, but there's no time. I tell him that I can do it and confidently take over so he can get back to the rest of the players. Four minutes to game time, son's geared up and ready to go. No time for warm ups. They have the nerve to tell me that we should get to the games early enough and prepared so he can warmup with the team. I grit my teeth and secretly feel like strangling them. I smile politely and nod saying nothing. I mean, is this REALLY my fault?

Game time! My son is a guard (or was that a tackle?) on the offensive line. The whistle blows and the game starts flying by. 6 points, 7, 13, 14,20, 26. It's not even 1/2 time. The other team can't score. Ours is off the charts.

At 1/2 time the coaches are going over the rules. Our team isn't allowed to score any more points until the other team scores. What? These kids ARE in 5th grade. Do we really need to keep babying them? Are they so dim that they don't realize the other team is being reined in to make it a "fair" game? I don't know about you, but I think if I had been on that other team, I'd feel insulted. Whatever. They need to keep the defensive line in the whole second half of them game. Those kids will be SO tired! Our team is big enough for no one to have to play both offense and defense. They decide to alternate the lines every four plays, both playing defense.

Our teams were able to keep them from scoring the whole rest of the game. WOO HOO! Way to go!

My son is so excited. His team was undefeated last year. He wonders if they can do it again. Maybe if they work hard. I wonder if he had fun. He is beaming. I don't need any more answer than that! All's well that ends well I suppose!

Oops, sorry to keep you so long. That was quite the LONG story!
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