Lacrosse

The Ware Academy girls lacrosse players wear different headbands
for each game. Sometimes they don face paint or temporary tattoos,all part of the intimidation factor. I love it. Spray painting one's hair pink contributes to the intimidation factor. Who knew pink could be so fierce?

Welcome to another blog post where Chesapeake Bay Woman tells one story in the text and another in the captions.


On Saturday, Chesapeake Bay Daughter played in a lacrosse tournament that started at 9:00 a.m. and ended early in the evening. That's a long day and a lot of lacrosse. Four games to be exact.

Before each game, the players perform a series of stretches and warm ups, some of which mimic Irish dance maneuvers.

The day started off partly sunny and not terribly cold. So I decided to wear shorts and sandals. I never once looked at or listened to the forecast. That cramps my style.

Others seem to mimic yoga poses.

After the first game, clouds rolled in and the temperature dropped.  Then it started to rain.

Chesapeake Bay Daughter is left-handed with ambidextrous tendencies depending on what the activity is. Her wicked lefty move at the goal is hard to defend. BTW, this isn't the move, she was just standing around swinging the stick.  

Only one other individual at the event was wearing shorts that day. He was drinking Crown Royal to keep warm. By the way.

If this were softball, I'd say she just hit the ball to center field.
But it's not softball. It's lacrosse. (I love her hair.)

Everyone else was appropriately dressed.

(I was just trying to be delusional optimistic about the weather; everyone else was demonstrating common sense.)

CB Daughter kicks off the game with something called the draw.
I'd call it a face off on the 50-yard-line. Except there is no 50-yard line and it isn't called a face off. I know nothing about lacrosse other than I love watching my daughter play. She's fierce on that field..

Thankfully a blanket and Chesapeake Bay Son's hooded cross country jacket kept me from rigor mortis frostbite as I sat all day in my little fold-up chair.

Here they're getting ready to do the face off.
I mean the draw.

The fold-up chair says BASEBALL on the back. Neither of my children plays baseball or softball, although I had high hopes at one point.

The ball goes up in the air and 9 times out of 10 CB Daughter gains
possession of the ball.

So.  To clarify, I wore shorts and sandals to an all day, freezing cold, rainy lacrosse game where I sat in a chair that said BASEBALL, even though nobody in this family plays baseball, and the sport I was observing was actually lacrosse.  FYI, lacrosse sits exactly opposite from baseball on the whole sports spectrum.

She turns and runs wide open towards the goal.
A good percentage of the time she scores right away.
Straight from the draw to the goal.

It was so bitterly cold and wet, I couldn't leave my chair for any reason up to and including starvation or thirst.

I love watching her in case I've not said that before.

Doing so would expose my legs and feet to the bitter, wet cold. Also, my chair would get wet.

Here's another team, another face off. I mean draw. No. I like face off better. Nobody else seems to know the rules of lacrosse, so I think I can call it whatever I want and still be OK.

There were several games in between CB Daughter's games, which meant I was stuck in a chair that said BASEBALL wrapped in a blanket blinking back tears raindrops watching other teams play.

Due to lack of planning on my part, I froze to death sitting in cold rain for 10 hours and was unable to move from my spot on the 50-yard line even when CB Daughter's team was not playing.
(It was a survival tactic to prevent rigor mortis frostbite.)
I watched a lot of lacrosse Saturday. The End.

The best line of the day came from the only other individual in attendance who wore shorts. His name is Bill, and he and I were in first through fifth grades together at Gloucester Day School (now Ware Academy--Chesapeake Bay Daughter's school which consists of property and a house that once served as my grandmother's country store and my mother's home).

Anyway, Bill and I were discussing the rules of lacrosse, rules that we are unable to comprehend.

Bill, who is from Gloucester, made the following astute observation about the sport:

"The way I see it, you're just takin' a crab net and tossin' the ball into a gill net. This sport should be called Guinea Ball."

(Click here  for a previous post that helps explain Guinea for those who aren't familiar with the place.)

In spite of all the rain and cold on such a long day, I can honestly say that every single bit of the suffering was worth it. CB Daughter was incredible out on that field in spite of the cold rain.  I lost track of how many points she scored. Afterwards, her coach asked where she'd be going to school next year.  (She's going to Mathews High School which doesn't offer lacrosse and hasn't since the Chiskiake Indians roamed the marshes.) The coach encouraged her to play club lacrosse next spring.

We shall see.

All I know is I'd sit through fire to watch her play. The End.