Desert Magnolia

Have you ever yearned to have a simple saga to share? A straightforward story? A black and white blurt out? Me too, but it seldom happens. Why? I don't know. Maybe because as we get older there is less black and white and much more gray. Or because sometimes life throws ridiculously complex scenarios at us and expects us to figure them the hell out. Take, for example, my daughter's knee. If you've been reading this blog for very long you're fully aware of how that whole thing went down. And the emotions, physical effort, pain, love, dedication and genuine human fortitude that went into bringing that girl back. And I'm not even talking about what SHE had to do! That was just her support group. Anyway, it's always been difficult. The whole blown then replaced ACL thing can be tricky, particularly when you're a college athlete and place unbelievable amounts of stress on that joint on a daily basis as part of your sport. And when your body builds scar...

Really. I didn't really realize I was doing it, the breath holding thing, but I was, I really was. And I didn't know how I would react when my girl, who has been to hell and back with her knee injury/recovery, made her first college goal ever. To win a Big East Conference game against University of Southern Florida.  Time elapsed when she made the goal? 89:28. And with :32 left in a rainy, ugly, scoreless game, my daughter stayed composed, set her shoulders in that very cool way she does when she's sure she can do it, and put that ball in the net. She made it look easy. But we all know what it's taken to get her to where she was standing in front of that goal, rain pelting down, in a Big East Conference match in Tampa Bay last weekend. It was one day short of two years since she got hurt, and boy did she get that bad monkey off her back with style. And when that ball went in the net? I completely lost it. Completely. See, she was closer to her dream, a...

Daughter's team is playing in DePaul this weekend. And also at Notre Dame. For many reasons, none of which seem solid to me right now,  I'm not going to see her play. But G. G. and his Mom are. G.G.'s fam is from that area of the world, so they'll be staying in a hotel one night and with relatives the next, so it's convenient and then his Mom is going to some kind of a reunion one night so G.G. may be able to hang with our girl a little then, too, which is a bonus. He misses his girl. And she misses her Dad. So, G. G. and Mominlaw are super excited about seeing the girl play. She's strengthening and focusing herself on the field and getting more minutes and all is well. And she loves it when her Dad watches her play..she always has. While I may not be there in body, I will most certainly be there in spirit. Which means I'm sending a goodie bag for the girl, some stuff she's requested, some I found and will be a surprise. Mostly it'll be some ...

This Irene thing is turning out to be a much bigger deal than originally anticipated. She's 430 miles across right now, and her eye has refined and organized to the point where it appears dome like from the space stations observing it. Daughter is in North Carolina, anticipating a game in ungodly heat with 100% humidity later today, and mentioned they'd probably not be heading back to Providence until Tuesday now due to the anticipated airport closures and other havoc wreaked by this storm. Awe.some. My question is really rather simple, and has to do with common sense. (I know, I always get into trouble when I start to question decisions that have clearly been made in a common sense vacuum...). Why on God's green Earth would not just one but TWO (presumably) college educated women's varsity soccer coaches IN THE BIG EAST CONFERENCE NO LESS decide to 'play on' in spite of the fact that a behemoth of a storm is headed directly their way within 48 hours?...

Daughter played in their first game of the regular season this weekend. After endless pain, rehab, recovery, a second surgery to 'just clean up some scar tissue and stuff', more rehab, more recovery, etc. My girl is back on the field, and I realized something as GG and I were digesting the post-game stats that the college so kindly provides. I think I've been holding my breath since the day she injured her knee..holding it and praying and hoping and nurturing her and encouraging her and cheering her small victories and bursting with pride as she's worked through the ridiculous rehab that affects not just a young body, but impacts a young psyche as well. GG and I high fived when we saw those stats yesterday. The girl, well she played 84 minutes. And, she assisted in one of the two goals that was scored by her team. And, she said she felt good. Not yet at the great level, but really good. I felt an exhale, then I breathed deeply in, and realized that until tha...

Setting: a tempest of high desert proportions. A soccer game. Wind swirling, black clouds hanging ominously close to the ground, sheets of rain visible less than a mile north of the soccer fields. 2nd half of the game, other team is up by 1 point. The daughter gets fouled and ends up taking a free kick. A free kick. That's a kick around/over/through a line of the other team's players, aimed at the goal. The goal, of course, is to score. This seldom happens. Daughter squares her shoulders, takes a cleansing breath, spies a teeny tiny opening and shoots. A rocket. Right through the opening and into the goal. Then gets a charming smile on her face. Then gets high fived by everyone else on the team. And I do that little dance when it goes in, but not the one where the hips wiggle; that would be rude. Just the one where hands go up, fists formed, and a big smile comes. Parents came up to me and said, 'How can you stand to watch when she takes those?? I'd be a wreck! ...

You know the kind I mean. The ones that natives use to protect their territory. Just a slight 'whoosh' as the dart lets fly, a tse tse fly sting as it finds its mark in the great white intruder, then 'Whomp!' as the big white body hits the dirt for a peaceful little nap. That's all I want. Is that too much to ask? My fantasies employing said blow gun and lots of tranquilizer darts..well, these originate to when our kids first started playing soccer. When parents whose mouths were bigger than their intellects and/or knowledge of the game would spout off. Incessantly. Loudly. Creating frowns of embarrassment on the faces of their children and head shakes as the rest of us witnessed stupidity of a stunning magnitude. I've also fantasized about elephant guns that deliver payloads of tranquilizers sufficient to render offenders unconscious for the entire soccer season. The. Entire. Season. I'm pretty sure if I passed a hat around it would come back full of ...