oops...it's not all about "disa"

narcissism has some great ways of decorating reality; my narcissism. last year i played on a coed social football (soccer) league- this was the first time i had dribbled something (that was not on my pillow) in over 20 years. i begged the guy positioned behind me to be very concrete in his directives; "run forwards", "run backwards", "no, faster!", "kick the ball", "start breathing and get back up off the grass, now is not the time to lie down/cry/take a rest". he coached little kids, so i knew he could break it down for me. i found him to be very encouraging and informative. "push up d", "good job, d", "kick the ball, d". i sucked, but his narrative made me feel like i had contributed in some small way.

fast forward to coed flag football league this year. again, many patient voices and coaches, both on and off the field; cheering and directing me! "good job, d!" "don't let them through, d". "come on defense, don't let them through."

defense?

"d"

d?

not me?

defense.

oh.

she pushed me!

having worked with emotionally and behaviorally disordered children/adults for 9 years, i really should know better. whether it's obeying the "15 items or less" rule (and no, "two for one" does not count as one of the fifteen), or pocketing all the blank tiles in scrabble; people do not always conduct themselves as they are "supposed" to.

flag football was initially presented to me as the 'non-violent/non-physical' alternative to the slow paced carnage that seems to be on every bloody tv channel; daily. however, during today's game i was shoved aside by one winsome wench only to be barreled into by another freight train of a female (aaah, more girls with something to prove). in stressful situations we all regress emotionally to a younger state; like 5.

i wanted to smack her across the face (with my strawberry shortcake lunch box).

babymama drama

men are rumoured to be ruled by their hormones, women are renowned for it; teenage girls, pregnant teenage girls, pregnant women, new mothers, menopausal grandmothers. and yet many in possession of an excess of, cycling with, or reduction in oestrogen appear to need to "prove" that they can do it all. hear me roar, cry, and then deconstruct my feelings for you on colour coded, scented index cards before i chop wood with my right pinky (blindfolded).

strenuous physical activity is a wonderful way to sublimate aggression. or...a place to work out "daddy just didn't give me enough attention" issues. my flag football team recently witnessed one 'not so delicate flower', break two fingers in the pre-season scrimmage (requiring surgery and a cast), only to throw herself into a mid-game brawl this past weekend. both she and the hubby (a burly quarterback more than capable of taking care of himself) appear to share a preponderance towards a very active, non-verbal expression of their anger. while mr. QB was using the universal sign of "i am about to beat your face into a bloody pulp" towards our QB, his mrs charged onto the field to fight for Her Man's honour. fortunately she exercised exquisite judgement in her choice to drop baby-on-hip and toddler-in-hand at the sideline, thus ensuring them an uninterrupted view of "conflict resolution".

it required significant self control not to hand her a business card.

pull my flag

while the "scotch tapes" were not victorious in the first flag football game of the season we did "throw", "snap", and "pass" (i use quotation marks because these verbs were quite a feat--at least for my so called british ass/arse). apparently i also did something involving a "sack", which i find a little disturbing as i thought this was supposed to be a church league.

the recap: i pulled a flag. people cheered.

yay me.

the sarcastic sharts? TBA...

i agreed to play on a flag football team that one of my co-workers is putting together. i have never played football (american, not rest of the world), i do not understand football, i dont even watch the superbowl. it showed.

our group assembled at a local park on saturday morning, where the male/female ratio was (inexplicably) in favour of the ladies. we practiced how to throw (and catch) the ball correctly. during this warm up phase, i did indeed catch the ball. with my face.

once on the field, things did improve. i was issued very concrete 3 step directives "move forward 5 steps, head right and be prepared to catch". i did in fact catch the ball, however, i was so shocked that i'd actually caught it (not to mention feeling all gloaty on the inside) that i neglected to move with ball in hand, and an opponent yanked the flag from my belt.

football does have an entirely new lexical set that i am not familiar with; "rushing", "i-formation", and "other terms i cant remember now". however, a team name is something i can contribute my thoughts and creativity to; considering the excess of biting wit, and universal interest in all things fecal, i am holding out for "the sarcastic sharts". it would make a great t-shirt.