Soccer Pictures

I don't have any. I went to Q's soccer practice today with the camera and, AND, a spare set of batteries, should the ones in the camera wear out suddenly. Which they did, just as I took the camera out to try to film some action. I chortled to myself and glanced smugly around to see if anyone was going to be witness to my lightning-quick battery replacement. I felt like a war correspondent, flipping through his equipment without even looking, my fingers knowing the machine as intimately as can be, spent batteries clattering to the ground in slow motion, like cartridges from a carbine. (I didn't drop them on the ground, though. Don't worry. I'm just being dramatic.) And when I flipped the switch to take a picture, expecting the whine of electric power to rise eagerly from my camera, nothing at all happened. The batteries I had just taken out of the package at home were DEAD! My GOD, what a jip!

But here's how it went: Q was his usual hyper-aggressive and sprinting self on defense. Dominant at that end. For some reason, when he's playing defense, he slips into a much higher gear than at any other time. He's always the last man back, anticipating where he'll be most needed and turning away the opponents. But lately, when they turn the other way and start heading toward the opposite goal, he pulls up, lets others take over. I'm not sure why this is - last year he was very aggressive, and effective, at that end of the field. This year he's been jogging or standing while his teammates score, clapping and smiling afterward, but not really contributing.

But not today. Three shots on goal in quick succession, all following steals and heady sprints across midfield, some very deft moves to avoid defenders, nice touch and control as he got close to the net. No goals, but the old Q definitely seemed to be back. Maybe on Saturday I can get some film on here for you - though it appears I'll have to wear a bandolier of AA batteries. Just like Chewbacca. Although, unlike Chewbacca, I will wear pants.

Probably.

For reference:



Chewbacca

T has had three (maybe four...?) straight nights without calling out endlessly before going to sleep. She's very proud of herself. She wakes up around 5:45 and turns on her light to start playing quietly in her room. When I get up, I dress her and we go out together to walk Hobie. Every morning she asks me to re-tell her a story I made up the other day, where Caperucita Roja is asked by her mother to go to the clearing to the white tree, which appears every hundred years and bears magical fruit, and which can only be seen by little girls. When she gets to it, Caperucita Roja sees that there are little girls from all over the world there, happily picking fruit from the tree, which glows. So Caperucita Roja picks an apple, and a pear, and a banana, and an orange, and some grapes. On the way home, she's hungry, but realizes she can't eat any of the apple, because her mother will know. Likewise on down the line with the banana, the orange, etc. But the grapes...! So she plucks one and snips off the stem and eats it, and to her amazement she finds that suddenly, she knows how to read! A while later on, she's still hungry, so she picks another one, and finds that, lo!, she knows how to drive a car! So when she gets home, she takes the car for a quick spin and then goes in to hand the fruit to her mother, who's none the wiser. The End.

I told Janneke this story and told her that the fruit is meant to be doled out secretly to the little girls over the course of their childhood by their mothers, and that it is thus that they acquire the knowledge they'll need as adults. And of course, Janneke raised an eyebrow and wondered aloud just what knowledge the banana might represent.

Let's keep it out of the gutter, please, Mami.