Trying not to re-hash the game yesterday evening too too much (we lost, not sure of the score grumble grumble). My sweet bf, roped in once again to play linesman was supporting me from the side of the field. Little does he know that saying "shake it off" after each goal scored against me is about as effective as saying "remember to breathe now" to a woman in labour. Ah, he means well. Poor ref- after more LOUD (oops) grumbles from me stemming from what *I* considered a bad call, I found him in my face. "I have PMS!" I hissed and he backed away slowly, ran up the field and stayed away from me for the rest of the game. HA! Serves him right.
I don't like that I allow myself to get into such a frustrated and grouchy mood. It IS only a game, after all. I don't usually play goal, but for various reasons (we don't have one this season and a calf injury has prevented me from doing much running), I've done it EVERY GAME. It's not all bad- I do enjoy the challenge and the rush when I DO save a goal (no, they don't ALL go in). There's something sweetly satisfying about drop kicking that ball and having it arc up and land somewhere near the centre line. I ended up spending some time with my sis (and teammate) afterwards, helping her fold the mountain of clothes on her bed as she prepared for her trip to a wedding this weekend. I'm so happy and thankful to have such a good relationship with her (it certainly wasn't always that way). We love, encourage, confide in and understand each other, unconditionally. Love you, B.