Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Last LAX blog of the season

Goodbye LAX Season...I learned a lot...but not about lacrosse...
April 25, 2010

So lacrosse season has come to an end and this will be my last blog...until football...at least that is a sport I sort-of-somewhat-justalittlebit understand...sort-of...

It has been a fun road to travel...all this hitting with sticks and flying balls...and shared mouth guards...and even though I have thrown in the towel with trying to understand this game, I have really enjoyed it!

I also enjoyed having a wonderful group of parents to share team duties with and how wonderfully cooperative and supportive everyone was. It makes a team mom's job easier when you can just assign duties and everyone does them. Why can't our kids be more like that? Remember, I have a 16-year old in the house...EVERYTHING is an argument or fuss...she is like a $600-an-hour lawyer with us...

This last week was a big one for our boys---a field trip, their last game, and the Greek Festival...

About that field trip---or what I affectionately refer to as "herding cats" (and if you have cats you know they are not much about being herded). The kids were great. I highly recommend the IMAX 3-D movie that they got to see: "Hubble 3D"...and the magic exhibit was fun. But the bus ride...man, oh man, what a ride...both ways. I was a chaperone and since I had all girls in my group, I rode on the girl bus. I think the 6th grade team leader either has a lot of faith in me or dislikes me...I'm going with the former as they were a pretty sweet bunch of girls. So I am on the bus with Precious History Teacher (his name changes but he is the same man...adorable, precious, VERY cute 25-year-old WONDERFUL History Teacher)...for this blog I will call him PHT) and Sweet English Teacher (SET)...and we leave SFEDS 45 minutes before our expected arrival at HMNS, and SET remarks that we are going to have time on our hands...and with that, she cursed us...

45 minutes later we FINALLY arrive at the HMNS, but not before touring a good bit of the freeways around downtown. We went east on 10, then to 45 South, and then on to 59 South and finally exited somewhere to get to the museum. I thought we would just head over to 59 and exit Main, but what do I know. The girls got LOUD...and mean LOUD LOUD. SET had to quiet them down...more than once. It was the bus ride from hell...until the bus ride home...and then that become the REAL bus ride from you-know-where...

After our little day at the museum, we get back on the buses to head back to SFEDS at 2:10. SET and PHT and I are happily visiting in our little row...I ask which way we are heading and PHT remarks that we must be getting ready to get on 59 from the looks of things...he was wrong. That wasn't the first time we guessed wrong as to the route the bus driver was going to take. She outmaneuvered our thinking about 12 more times. Every time we thought we figured out what way she was going SHE WOULD TURN SOME WRONG WAY!!! Or at least it seemed wrong to the 3 adults sitting in the front 2 seats...adults who know how to get to and from the museum. The girls were oblivious. We had a nice tour of downtown---we went by Sacred Heart Co-Cathedral, St. Joseph's hospital, Market Square ...yes, we made it that far and I thought for sure she was going to get on the Scott street entrance to 1-10 but she had another surprise up her sleeve...we swung around by the Lyric Center and the Wortham..I quit paying attention and just visited with PHT and SET...and thought maybe we were headed down Memorial but the next thing I know I look out the window and all but pounce on PHT sitting next to me as I say "WHY THE HECK (I may have said "hell"...thank goodness I wasn't yelling) ARE WE AT MINUTE MAID PARK?!?!!!!!! I think his answer was something to the effect of "I wish I knew"...and I was wishing he DID know.

By then we had been touring downtown Houston for a good 30 minutes or more. So we finally get on 59 and head to I-10 and the freeway is at a standstill. They boy's bus is in front of us. They turn to go 45 North. I grab PHT (did I mention he is really cute?) again and say something about the boy's bus heading a different direction...he laughs...I remind him that my son is on that bus...he stops laughing...but only because he has figured out that they are heading up 45 to avoid the gridlock standstill we are in. I think he may be the only man that I know that must have a sense of direction because I know plenty of men that wouldn't have figured that one out. I quit worrying where my son was headed when we turned the same direction.

I think the bus drivers must get paid by the mile...

It seems to me that the bus driver's thinking was a bit like Disneyworld and the long lines that wind about---if you keep moving, you forget how long you are waiting...so we kept moving...

After our trip up 45 North we get to 610 and take that back to I-10 and finally exit Piney Point.

We have been on the bus for at least an hour...

and it is carpool at SFEDS...

I'm stopping here because the rest is...well, not fun...or funny...but we got back safe and sound and that is all you need to know about that...

I'm not getting back on a bus with that woman (the bus driver) again...

I literally got myself to the gym as quickly as I could that day to work off the stress. The cucumber water is still an attraction and I can burn a boatload of calories doing an hour on the elliptical machine with my friends Madonna, George Michael, and the cast of "Glee". I even survived my first spin class in a very long time---it hurt but was a victory. I've only missed one day in 30 days...a lot like rehab...my inner skinny girl is getting happier, but she wishes I hadn't kept her locked up for so long. The day I missed was Friday...because it was Greek Festival and I was TIRED...


So back to LAX...that last game was something special...another undefeated season for our boys! I'm so proud of them!!!!!

So here are the top 10 things I learned during LAX season, besides the fact that I won't be understanding all the ins and outs of this game anytime soon:

10. The Goalie can take the ball and run down the field and score a goal...

9. Boys can hit each other with their sticks if they hold the stick the RIGHT way...ON THE LAX FIELD...DURING A GAME OR SCRIMMAGE....

8. mouth guards can be shared if you have to...

7. the 7th grade History teacher (not PHT, but a different guy...who I also love) is not fond of our boys penchant for sitting on the desks, messing with things on his desk, being loud, playing with phones (which are banned until after 3:45), or waving LAX sticks around...they will have to do some pretty good sucking up next year to get back into his good graces...and maybe the Athletic Director needs to give the 6th grade boys a different room for study hall.

6. The sweet dad who tried to pay the entire bill for the team dinner is waaaay too nice and thankfully got paid back but next time I am watching him so he can't nab the bill again...

5. Speaking of Molinas...that was fun! They can handle a crowd...you just need to tell them you are bringing 50 people. What did I learn about Molinas? One margarita is probably enough...

4. Even the sweetest boys can end up in the penalty box...

3. Our boys are VERY skilled athletes...the next few years will be fun...and they all shine...

2. I can actually say I look forward to next LAX season...

and the number one thing I learned:

1. YOU PEOPLE WILL READ ANYTHING...EVEN THIS BLOG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Every Good LAX Mom needs to cook...so here is something good...

Every Good LAX Mom needs to cook...so here is something good... - Edit
March 30, 2010
Disclaimer: I hope no one is offended by a tiny bit of cursing...nothing bad but sort-of a 4-letter word...but not really...



I agreed to cook a brisket for the Teacher Appreciation Lunch at the school this week...simple enough...and the recipe was easy. I go to the store, get the brisket and all the stuff the recipe calls for and then decide to wing it and buy a bottle of marinade and doctor it up. All's well...



Until the teacher appreciation chairman asks me to make 2...



Back to the store...so now I have 17 pounds of brisket to contend with...thank goodness there are 2 of them and not just one giant brisket...



I do my thing with the marinade and put them in the fridge overnight...get up this morning, hit the gym (more on that later even though I said I wouldn't) and put the briskets in the oven. Run off to school to deal with some projects and come home and...



DA-YUMMMMMMMMMMM....



and I mean yummmmmmmmmmmm as in yummmmmmmy...my house smelled amazing...that brisket was going to be special if it tastes as good as it smells!



So off to the game I go and spend that time taking photos and getting amazed by our boys and how they are just an incredible bunch of kids...I'm so proud of them...especially since none of them needed to wear someone else's mouthguard.

And the pictures are better this time around...

After the game I come home and it is time to take the briskets out and trim them and put them in the fridge overnight to reheat for tomorrow.



The house still smells amazing...da-yummmmmmmmmmmm



You can't very well trim up a brisket without tasting some. The men in my house gave it two very big thumbs up. My husband wanted to know how much he could eat (a tiny bit) and my son wanted to know what the teachers did to be special enough that it was for them and not him...

My answer: "put up with you and your classmates". I helped Coach watch study hall today (apparently the 7th grade history teacher, whose classroom they use, is not pleased with the behavior...that doesn't bode well for next year with History if they don't find a way to endear themselves to him).

Anyway, back to the brisket...and just how good it is...

I fully expect marriage proposals tomorrow.



I think some men may drop on their knees and thank me and ask me to leave my husband.



I'm not a polygamist, but since my friend Jake is already my second hubby and the God of the Theater (GOTT---my friend who is the drama teacher at school) is my work hubby I might as well add to the crowd...



You know, you don't get this "fluffy" by being a bad cook!



So the recipe is at the bottom of this column and I urge you to try it...so easy and so good and your men are sure to be happy and your husband might offer a nice gift (I suggest asking for something in a little blue box from a store that begins with a "T") and your son might clean his room. It's THAT good...and the best part is that 90% of the work comes out of a bottle...and it will feed a crowd...



da-yummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm ...trust me on this...



So the gym is going well and I am still addicted to the cucumber water although I suspect that it might not be enough to get me to get up and go all the time but for now it is working...I hope they don't disappoint me and switch it up...



Did you know that George Michael's "Freedom 90" is almost 7 minutes long?



I didn't either until I was on that da-yummmmm elliptical machine (and only halfway through my hour on the da-yummm thing) and had the resistance way up and the incline all the way up...and the only way to get through it is to start to sing...



"I won't let you down...I will not give you up..."



yeah, the lady next to me was not appreciative of my love for George (Michael) and that I felt the need to push through by imagining I looked like the supermodels in the video and singing along...



The next track on the playlist was "Supermassive Black Hole" by Muse so I was quickly out of my 80's stupor...and then my beloved Madonna followed and we Vogued and Expressed Ourselves...



Sorry, Lady-Next-to-Me, but I have to dance my way through the workout or it won't happen...



Then my favorite, very beloved (former) spinning instructor came in---I call her Spinderella--- and I tried to hide from her...she found me and wants to know when I am coming to class. I told her I would be there when I was sure she wouldn't need to give me CPR and when I could assure myself I could get through it without vomiting...this may take a while.



I think tomorrow I might need to find George (Michael), Michael (Jackson and his sister Janet), and MGMT (ask your kids) to get me through because I tried the brisket and...



Da-yummmmmmmmmmmm



I'll let you know if I am taking on any extra husbands...







So here's how you cook it:



Buy a 7-10 lb. UNTRIMMED brisket (yes, you need the fat on it)



1 bottle of CLAUDE'S brisket marinade and sauce



meat tenderizer



salt



SMOKEHOUSE pepper (trust me on this...it's addicting)



Liquid Smoke



brown sugar



Sprinkle the brisket liberally with the meat tenderizer, salt, and pepper (liberally) all over. Sprinkle all sides with a bit of the Liquid Smoke. Pour the bottle of Claude's brisket marinade all over it. If you have an injector, use it now. If you have a big brisket, you might want a second bottle of the marinade (one bottle is enough for 7 pounds).



Cover the brisket and let it marinate overnight in the fridge.



The next morning, set your oven to 450 degrees. When the oven is hot put the brisket in and let it sit in the hot oven for 15 minutes. Turn the heat down to 225 and go away for a while. After about 3 hours, take the brisket out an add about 1/2 cup brown sugar to the cooking liquid. Baste. Sprinkle more brown sugar on top of the brisket and return (covered) to the oven.



Go away and forget about it and enjoy the delicious smell...baste when you think about it...



This takes about 7-9 hours depending on the size of your brisket.



Slice it and serve it with de-fatted cooking liquid and/or bar-b-que sauce.



That's it...



Your men will love you...trust me...



da-yummmmmmmmmmmmmm...

Game 3---I didn't know the Goalie could score a goal

Disclaimer: this blog is intended to be just for fun...all opinions are my own...I love and adore all the boys equally but this time I am dedicating my blog to one particular boy: Alex, our goalie...gotta love that kid...



Here we go again...another LAX game...at least this one was in the daylight so I could take photos...all 1340 of them...be glad I didn't post them all...



I've given up trying to understand the sport...I had an "ah ha" moment and it became clear that I needed to get over trying to figure out what was going on and to just enjoy watching our boys hit other boys with sticks and not get in trouble for it.



The "Ah Ha" moment: when Alex went sprinting down the field with the ball in his GOALIE STICK and scored a goal...at least it looked to me like a goal...but then it wasn't a goal...so between being confused that the goalie could even potentially score and what looked like a goal wasn't a goal I said...



AH HA!



I'M NEVER GOING TO UNDERSTAND THIS GAME!!!!!!!!!



So I give up...



No more online LAX sites...



No more asking the adorable History Teacher/Coach to get out the markers and white board...



No more...no more! I'm just going to watch...and take pictures...



So why am I dedicating this blog to Alex? Because watching him taught me a couple of things:



1) When you get the chance, sprint down the field...and it doesn't matter if you don't have the "right" equipment or if your goal gets called back. Watching Alex was hilarious and fun...he just went for it...and all of our boys do that, but there was something fun about watching Alex just take that ball into that big-headed stick (that thing is like a tennis racquet) and run down the field in that "Alex way" he has...I loved it! I sure wish the goal had counted...but then again in my book it did because he did it...



and the other thing I learned...



2) When you have to, you CAN put in your buddy's mouth guard into your mouth and play. Yeah, that was gross, watching him put in his teammates mouth guard when the ref wouldn't let him play without a mouthguard...I'm not sure I really learned anything from it, but it was hilarious and the fact that Alex did it because the ref wasn't letting him back on the field without it pretty much amazed me. I guess the lesson is that just when you think they have outgrown eating dirt and houseplants, boys will put anything in their mouths...anything...even someone else's mouth guard. Sadly (or grossly) my son informed me that this mouth guard exchange also happened in wrestling...NASTY! I couldn't bring myself to ask him if he ever did it.



Alex, I gotta love you, Buddy...you do make me smile...and gag (the mouth guard)...but you make me smile way more...



So this blog is and isn't about lacrosse...but really, people, how long can I keep up the shtick about not understanding the sport? So for the 2 or 3 of you who read this blog, I had to come up with something...



I might blog about everyday things now...and still talk a bit about LAX...who knows...I write as I feel it...



I went back to the gym yesterday and today...it was gorgeous outside so I was happy to get a machine facing the window so I could look out as tried to manage not to have a heart attack on the Precore. Mind you, I haven't been on an elliptical machine in over 2 years...maybe 3...LONG time...



But my inner skinny girl finally woke up from hibernation and is demanding to get her body back...I hate it when my multiple personalities fight---the fat chick wants to eat the goodies like the birthday cake in the fridge and the skinny girl wants to have possession of the closet. Someone has to win...I hope it is the skinny one...



So I went to the Racquet Club and let the skinny girl have her way...found an empty elliptical with no one on either side (because I like my music LOUD) and prayed that I could remember how to do it...it does take a coordination...so I got going and on went the music...I fought the urge to throw my hands in the air like a zombie when "Thriller" came on. Sometimes I forget what I am doing and sing...that will get me in trouble...looking like a spaz on the machine and singing Madonna...



"Come on...vogue...let your body move to the music..."



I love Madonna...and her fake British accent...and that she looks more amazing at 50 something than she did at 30 something...and that gap between her teeth...and that you absolutely cannot NOT dance when you hear her music...



I'll go tomorrow and hopefully that this will soon become a habit that I won't break...besides, I am addicted to the cucumber water.



And I really want to get back to spin class again so if you want to join me as I die on a bike, just call and you can come with me to Spinderella's (not her real name) class at the HRC (she is the BEST spin instructor ever). At least if I go to her class I know she loves me enough to jump off her bike and give me CPR.



Don't worry, I won't be constantly blogging about me, Madonna, and the gym...but today, I just had to...and I had to thank Alex for making me smile...

Game 2---I still don't get this sport

We are 2 games into the season and I still don't have any better understanding of this crazy game than I did before the first game. At least I know what the "crease" is...it is the circle around the goalie...

I understand "defender", "midfielder" , "midi" (short for midfielder..), and that an attacker is like a forward in soccer or field hockey, but the rest of it is still quite a jumble. It took me 2 years to understand the "off sides" rule in soccer so I have a very slow learning curve with sports...

The sweet History teacher/coach did bravely try to give me a lesson about the game...he even used visual aids (a white board and marker), but once he got going with the "x's" and "o's" on the diagram, my eyes began to spin like a cartoon character. Poor thing, he just looked at me and said "that's enough for now...go to the first game and then we will talk about it more."...thank goodness my son is his student and not me or I might have flunked class...bless his sweet heart for trying...he is an adorable man...

Penalty Box...cradling...cross check, oh my!

Game 1, or "What the heck is this game? Part 1"...

I stayed behind the camera for much of the first game. I figured if I couldn't understand what was going on, the least I could do is get good photos of it. The light didn't cooperate so it was a "fail"... and I left with no understanding of the game, and my photos were...not good...not quite an epic fail, but a fail nonetheless...

I did understand that the boys rocked the game and on boy and his "hat trick" of goals (a sports term I understand thanks to a "Jeopardy" question) was amazing...all the boys played well and did us proud!

The best part of the game for me---when we came home and my son says to me "That was soooo fun!"...uh-oh, I think we are going to stick with this sport...

How about track? Let's do that...

That was so last blog...

Game 2, or "What the heck is this game? Part 2"...


So we get to that late game (late for 6th grade boys)...which started even later...and the temperature is dropping...and I'm in sandals...and one of the dads is in short sleeves. I did offer to go to the car and get my sparkly poncho for him but I don't think he was cold enough to be that humiliated...

So why am I in sandals? I forgot to change shoes after teaching Art a la Carte all day...Sweet History Teacher's room is a sauna so I was comfy in my sandals until I got to the game and realized that my feet were becoming popsicles! One player's gorgeous and incredibly sweet sister gave me a blanket---I am planning to adopt her next week---perhaps her parents will take my daughter as a trade? I don't think so...16 year old girls are basically Beelzebub (demons from you-know-where)...Lord Valdemort and She Who Must Not Be Named are 2 other nicknames we have for her...

Back to the game...

We start late.

It. is .freezing.

I thought this was a SPRING sport?

So I sit, unable to take photos because I can only do so in natural light, and enjoy the warmth provided by that sweet child's blanket while I try and figure out what is going on in the field. It's hopeless and I am grateful that my friend Jeff understands the game and can tell me things...

There is a lot of stopping of the game...the first half took forever...tick tock goes the clock, but for only a few seconds at a time...

A test in Spanish...Pobre Ana...

Pobre SFEDS 6th grade boys LAX team...Pobre Poor Parents Stuck Freezing in the Stands (sorry, my Spanish is limited...I only know that "pobre" means "poor" ...the rest is beyond me).

The boys have a test in English...Ponyboy and Sodapop..."stay Golden"...and the ref is stopping the game every 15 seconds...

Why are our boys going to the penalty box all the time? We have good boys...what the heck is the ref seeing with all that action on the field...I can't tell when one of them has done something wrong...

it. is .freezing.

We keep scoring...the clock keeps stopping...the ref is making this game last forever...several of them score, one boy runs like lightning despite not having cleats, and the goalie keeps balls out of he goal despite having been sick the day before...they are all playing really well but the ref keeps stopping the game and I don't know why...

A test in Spanish...a test in English...

I forgot to give my son a snack...he must be starving at this point because it is 7:30...

The sweet child who loaned me her blanket is cold and I insist she take back her blanket...a dad gives me his...one poor mom shows up after being lost and all I want to do is hug her...I share my (borrowed) blanket with her so she can stop shaking...

I see my son running about bothering an attacker like he (my son) is some kind of gnat that is buzzing about the boy...I guess that is his job...

It is after 8:00 PM

It . Is. Freezing.

Isn't this a SPRING sport?

Sticks are being brandished about like light sabers..."Luke, I am your father"...another Star Wars reference but I am not as geeky as that would make me seem...the boys can run with the stick in one hand...

I just don't get this game, but I do "get" that a long stick means defense and a short one is a midi or attacker...my son is playing defense and the stick is as long as he is tall...we bought him a normal sized stick and I refuse to go and get another one because as soon as we do, he will need the short stick instead. That is what happens with sports equipment in our family...and this is an expensive sport...

Thank goodness for Jeff...between the blanket and his commentary I begin to start to somewhat maybe get a little bit of something about what this game is about...but just a little bit...

One dad acutally played lacrosse in school---he needs to give us all a lesson...he understands this crazy game...but he was smart and stayed on the other side of the field so he could let the other bleachers block the wind... I think I will plant myself next to him next time...

It. Is. Freezing.

The clock keeps stopping...the ref seems to want this game to last forever...

I come up with a song in my head...to the tune of the "Tik Tok" song by Ke$sha (if you haven't heard it, your son has...)

Don't stop, run the clock...



Ref, oh please don't make it stop...



Tonight, the boys will fight



but it's getting near midnight!



Tik Tok , run the clock



but the game it must not stop...



Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh...oh -oh-oh-oh-oh-ooh!







I'm really more of a Michael Buble and Aerosmith girl (what a combo!), but Ke$ha is catchy...and she looks and sings a bit like my daughter...if my daughter sang about drinking Jack Daniels...which she doesn't...at least I hope not...

Back to reality:

IT. IS. FREEZING.

Pobre Ana and Ponyboy...

FINALLY the game ends...it's almost 8:15...Pobre Ana and Ponyboy have to wait because my son is hungry...and tired...and I still don't understand lacrosse...but my son again tells me that the game was "so much fun"...that is really all that matters...I hope the Spanish and English teachers agree...

I guess I will figure this out after spring break...maybe it will be warmer...maybe Sweet History Teacher/Coach can shed some light on this as he is ever patient with me and oh so cute...I'll let him get out the marker and white board again...or he can make a power point about it...that seems to do the trick with the kids...

How about track? Let's do...nevermind...

By Anice D at 10:41pm

What the heck is this sport?

My friend Kari Short, who has championed my writing and encouraged me for years to tell more stories, has finally convinced me to put my fingers on the keyboard again in an attempt to amuse others. You can choose to read this section of the webpage or skip it entirely...like the jester in a royal court, sometimes my audience will enjoy it or I might end up looking the fool, but that is nothing new (the fool part). So here goes...



What the heck is this sport?



It's not like other sports...it not only has its own rules and lingo, it has its own culture! This was not clear to me until my 16 year-old daughter came home and told me that she didn't want her brother to become a "LAX Bro".



"What is a LAX Bro?" I asked.



"Oh, they are the dudes (yes, she said DUDES) that play lacrosse and think that lacrosse is the greatest sport ever invented." She then went on to explain that they have a "look"---most have longish hair (the better to wave out behind the helmet), preppy clothes, and all they do is talk about lacrosse and use the lacrosse lingo. Frankly I thought that was what a "preppy" was---polo shirts and prep school sports---but apparently this goes one step beyond...it seems that they are not terribly nice to the girls (at least at her high school), but rather looking for the "hottest chick" to hang on their arm and come cheer them on until they find a prettier/cuter/"hotter" girl in the stands to romance via...TEXT MESSAGE...she used the word "tool"...I don't want to know what that means if it is anything other than something you can buy at Lowe's...



I hope she finds herself attracted to a baseball player very soon...



So this conversation got me thinking:

WHAT THE HECK IS THIS SPORT?!?!



(yes, this time I thought it in all caps with exclamation points)



I know nothing about this sport. Football I can somewhat understand. After all, I was the only cheerleader who could tell if our team was offense or defense when we were playing at a school that didn't have the little football light up on the scoreboard next to the name of the school that had possession (yes, I do know a couple of football words) of the ball. Perhaps this is my only achievement in understanding football (we have the ball=offense), but it wasn't alien and foreign to me and I had heard the words and lingo before.



When my son decided to wrestle I knew I was entering a new world...very strange sport, wrestling is (wow, that makes me sound like Yoda), but although I could not understand one thing that was happening on the mat, and could never tell what gets you points, I did know that it was hand-to-hand combat and it only took a few (very long) minutes...You want it to end and end quickly...your son is out there fighting another boy...something we send them to detention for doing unless they are wearing a very strange-looking leotard thing and are grappling each other on a mat...very. strange. sport.



So my son then selects as his 3rd sport to play at middle school---Lacrosse. Maybe it is the fact he is an Aries and although I don't attribute anything to astrological signs and what they supposedly say about you, I did find it ironic that my boy is born under the sign of a RAM. As in a sheep that wants to RAM things...hit things...



How about track? Let's do that...



I get running, I just don't do it myself...



But no, he picks the sport that the coach tells us from the get-go that the boys will be hurt and beat up and must wear the dreaded...cup...



How about track? Let's do that...



Football is violent...sorry, Dads, but it is. The sole purpose is to hit each other while some guy runs the ball down the field trying not to get hit. Wrestling is combat on a "I am a guy and I will beat the @$#% out of you" level...but LAX is a sport not unlike hockey where your bruises and scars are like some badge of courage. I remember my cousins, who all attended East-coast boarding schools where lacrosse has been played since the beginning of time, showing up to our family reunions with new scars...all the result of some violent thing called "lacrosse". I'm pretty sure they didn't wear all the padding, etc. that they wear now...at least I hope that is the reason I remember those scars and broken bones...



How about track? Let's do that...



So I decide to look on the internet and find some rules and explanation of the sport. My daughter did not play girl's lacrosse. She ran TRACK...



How about track? Let's do that...



So I find the rules, etc. about lacrosse. And I try to make sense of them. I thought about asking the sweet history teacher about it---he went to a prep school so I figured that even though he was a baseball and football player he may have had some exposure to it. The man is a coach (a LAX coach at that) and a very fine teacher, but I think I am better off letting him tell me that there was some culture called "Kush" that I never heard about in all my schooling, than to ask a guy who understands and "gets" sports as a whole to tell me about it. I am "sport stupid" and bless his heart, he would probably fire me as a parent if he tried to explain a sport to me. And since I really like the way he teaches my son, I think I will go on learning World History from him as I quiz my boy for tests...he can teach me about Kush and Masada (which I thought was some sort of Portuguese pastry but that is a "malasada") instead of some sport where someone is called "attacker". Back to the internet...



I have a college education. From a good school (and yes, you UT people, A&M is just as good as your mecca of orange and white). But I don't get this sport. I still have no idea what any of it is about. I get that you put a ball in the net and the goalie tries to stop you...my kids both played soccer and my daughter plays the female equivalent so LAX (field hockey...girls LAX is way tamer). I get the "ball in the goal" thing. But it is all this other stuff... like what the heck is "the crease"? There is a whole dictionary devoted to lacrosse terms:

http://www.e-lacrosse.com/laxicon.html



I don't understand most of them...



How about track? Let's do that...



I guess I will have to figure it out when I watch a game. I might pay some 8th grade boy to sit next to me and explain the game to me as I watch. I really want to know what the crease is and why the attacker can't enter it...



Maybe I'll just hide behind my camera...I love photographing sports...



How about track? Let's do that...



NO! We are doing Lacrosse...



Until next time,



The LAX Mom

(aka Anice)