So Moomoo and Monkeyboy have started rugby this year. They are playing for the Bears, the same club my brother played for. This is a culture shock for the both of us – the boys as they’ve gone from soccer to union, me because I’m showing up sober (hey it was the early 90’s when he played there…..).
You need to understand that Mr Cruisey and I are not competitive types. The most sport that gets watched at our house is when the kids are looking on the web for skateboards or scooters. They did watch the last State of Origin and we did catch a few World Cup games – needless to say, sport, not huge in our house.
So when we come across these crazy parents at the boys games, it is both intriguing and revolting – kind of like looking at something that is so wrong, and you know you should not look cannot help yourself.
Take today for example. We enter the enemies territory and are told we can sit under the gazebo they had erected. Apparently this was only a rouse as we were told to move to the much smaller gazebo as the one we were at was for the officials. We take our seats like good little lambs to the slaughter and feel all eyes on us. I’m sitting with 2 ladies from our team. Mrs A is slightly hung over and struggling to see (I’m feeling proud of her at this moment) and Mrs B is a lady I had assumed was fairly quiet but was soon to learn very funny and witty.
The officials gather under their palatial gazebo. Now apparently the officials are all of the other teams’ parents. The game starts and then we hear this crazy she-wolf, banshee type, primeval yelling – what the hell is that? We look over and see this white haired crazy thing on the side lines. We are all a bit scared to make eye contact. All of a sudden Mrs B pipes up and says ‘Geez, she’s like an aneurism’ – Gold!
On and on it goes then at half time the banshee along with the others in the pack decide to stick it to the ref – and the ref was from their club! Imagine if the ref was from somewhere else – there would’ve been a human sacrifice at the Under 10s game that day! Now that’s passion hey!
‘Time to strap in’ says Mrs B as the second half starts. We’re not sure what the banshee and her mate said at half time, but our boys got a bit of a butt kicking the second half. We suspect the words, no lunch, dinner, ipod, TV, you’ll be wearing your sisters skirt to school, along with threats of nightly 2 hour training, scrubbing of the club house toilets with your own toothbrushes may have been used to get their boys ‘heads in the game!’ Whatever threats, I mean words of encouragement were used, they seemed to work.
Overall, our boys had a good game – they came off the field with smiles on their dials so not all was lost. They got to play on a muddy field and run through puddles. They got a couple of tries and they got to have fun! I pity the parents who find it necessary to yell from the sidelines – hey passion is passion but a screaming banshee – whilst it does provide a bit of entertainment for us – can sometimes just be what it is – bloody annoying!