"It's all about the game, and how you play it."

"It's all about the rules and how you can break it."

Thus sang Moterhead...

Anyway, I went to my niece Paris's soccer game yesterday. It was a lot of fun. For some weird reason, their team doesn't have name, it's just "The Green Team". They are not named for their views on Mother Earth not their socio-political stances on enviromental issues. No, they are called 'The Green Team' because they wear green shirts and the coach couldn't figure out what to call them. Incidentally, the coach is my brother-in-law.
To be fair, he's a very good coach. He made sure all the kids got to play, even the ones that didn't want to be there. He gave very good directions and related well with the kids. And for a guy that is a full-time firefighter for the Ada F.D., and owns a part-time construction company, he's not one to rest on his laurels, whatever they may be.
My niece's team won by scoring more goals than the other team. To be honest, they don't keep score at this age group, they just want them out there, learning the rules, how to kick the right direction (a lot of the opposite going on yesterday) and just plain ball-handling is important at this step. But secretly I was happy that the Greenies won. And who wouldn't be? Paris is a demon on the field, keeping up with the bigger kids, putting a lot of energy into each kick. Well, it was a lot of fun.

I feel I should point out this next thing just for fun. I was told that there are no bleechers or public seating at the field where they play, so I would need to bring a chair. I didn't have one, so I drove to Wal-Mart that morning and picked up a sweet folding chair that comes with it's own ottoman. Well, I felt a little out of place because all of the people that came to back Paris just brought plain old folding chairs. Either the ribbon kind or the plastic tubing kind. Mine was pimped out Superfly TNT and they had these old scrubby chairs. :-) So naturually I got a little teased about it. heh... seems fair. Although I had the last laugh as I was reclining in comfort while they were sitting straight up the entire time.

Who's the Mac Daddy? Jay's the Mac Daddy!

Actually, I was scared to death, as the weight limit on the chair is 225lbs, and as anyone can tell by looking at me, I'm a tad heavier than that. I guess when the chair collapses under my gravitational pull, then the fine craftsmen who made that chair will have the last laugh, as I'll probably have to go out and buy a new one. Damn them!