1992 World Cup

Apparently this whole World Cup thing is a big deal.  I watched a little bit of the US v Belgium game yesterday with my hubby, and I even got into it a little bit!  In addition to the downright creative costumes in the crowd, the commentators were an unexpected highlight to me.  In what other US sport do you hear such poetic statements as, "He was plucked from his youth at the age of 16 (i.e. He was recruited early)?"

My youngest brother and sister would be so proud of me for watching.  They're pretty awesome at soccer, but it seems I didn't get those genes.

Flashback....1992, Hillsboro, a small white house on Rountree Street.  A young Ree gets ready for her first soccer practice.  She pulls on her bright orange soccer shirt, cut-off sweatpants shorts, and pulls her hair back in a high-and-tight pony tail.  And there, sitting on her bedroom floor staring back at her mockingly, was her arch nemesis...Shin Guards and his crony Tube Socks.  Mom comes in to check on her.

"Are you ready yet, Ree?"

Tears well up in her eyes and her cheeks flush hot with anger.  "No."
 
"Well you need to hurry up; we're going to be late!"

"I'm not wearing these things! They look stupid! No one else will be wearing them!"

"Put them on and let's go."

Fuming, young Ree straps on her shin guards and pulls her tube socks up over them.  She tries desperately to hold it all together as she silently hops in the back seat of the cream-colored Ford Escort.  As they pull up to the soccer field, Mom gets out of the car.  Ree doesn't.  Instead, she starts crying.

"I won't get out of the car!  I look stupid!"

Exasperated, Mom looks over at Coach Sheila.  Horror of horrors, Coach Sheila has the gall to actually walk up to the car and see what's going on.  Ree stares straight ahead, tears streaming down her face.  After a brief explanation, Coach Sheila tries to rally young Ree.  "But look, everyone else is wearing shin guards too!  It's part of playing soccer!"

Ree held firm, refusing to get out of the car.  Mom and Coach exchange a few brief words, and Ree was driven back to Rountree Street in the backseat of the cream-colored Ford Escort.  World Cup Victory.

At least for a day.

The next day, Ree was dropped off at soccer practice, shin guards and all.  And she played for one whole season, making one glorious goal...for the other team.

Five Minute Friday: Lost

Lost.  I got lost once...well, at least my parents thought I did.  We were on a family day trip to White Oaks Mall in Springfield.  I was just old enough to walk around the mall by myself...sometime in junior high...and my parents said to meet them outside of Sears in an hour.  So I did.  An hour came and went as I sat on the little bench outside Sears.  There were lots of interesting people to watch, especially a lot of mall cops with big flat brimmed hats on.  I was starting to wonder where my family was...they must've got sidetracked looking at the puppies in Pass Pets.

Finally, after a loooong while, I see my family rushing up to me, escorted by one of the mall cops.  My mom was shaking and my dad was mad.  "Is this your daughter?",  he asked my parents.  "Yes."  After a few seconds of very heated questioning, and lots of confusion on my part, it turned out my parents asked me to meet them outside of JC Penney.  The wandering mind of an adolescent girl...  I was probably too busy ogling at all the plastic jackets and chunky shoes when they were telling me where to meet them.

Five Minute Friday is a weekly one-word writing prompt by Lisa Jo Baker; set a timer for five minutes and write whatever pops into your head.

Five Minute Friday: Release

START.

Catch and release.  Fishing…catching lightning bugs.  I love to do both of these things.  Fishing is a peaceful experience if you don’t think about the gross parts. 

I remember running around my grandma and grandpa’s backyard with an old Jiffy jar trying to catch lightning bugs.  My brother and I usually made quite a haul.  Back then, I used to love the part when I could rip off their rear ends and make beautiful glow-in-the-dark jewelry for myself.  Seriously…who thought of that?  “Hey, how about we tear the lower half of this bug off, smear it on our fingers and call it a diamond?”  Usually, though, I think Mom made us let them go.  Probably because she didn’t want to deal with a jar full of dead bugs in the house the next morning; who can blame her?  They’re pretty to look at, flying around in the sky at night.  I feel like I see less and less of them these days, even when I am back at home in the Boro.  Hope they stick around for a while.

STOP.

Five Minute Friday is a weekly one-word writing prompt by Lisa Jo Baker.  You have five minutes to write whatever pops into your head.

Five Minute Friday: Messenger

START.

Don’t shoot the messenger.  Messenger bag.  Deborah “Messenger”.  Messenger.  I have no idea what to write about this word.  But the clock is ticking, and I have to write whatever pops into my head about this word.  Messenger bag.  I keep coming back to that.  So let’s go with it.

I took piano lessons for ten years growing up.  One year for my birthday, I got a little messenger bag for my piano books.  It had a black and white keyboard on the front and zipped all around three corners.  On the very front in little gold letters it said “Kelli Marie”.  Eventually after a few years, the little gold letters started peeling off.  But they hung on for dear life.  I loved carrying around my little “brief case” of music.  I felt very professional…me and my bag full of Beatles sheet music.  Or Elvis.  Or whatever my fancy was at the time. 

When I was younger I wanted to be a lawyer.  I could picture myself in a smart pantsuit carrying around a brief case.  Then I saw Jurassic Park, and all that changed.  There was one scene where a lawyer was running from a large scary looking dinosaur and ended up in a porter potty screaming.  The dino got him.  And with the death of that poor lawyer my childhood dream of legal stardom died with him.  Porter potty…is that how you say it?

STOP.

Five Minute Friday is a weekly writing prompt from Lisa Jo Baker in which she gives you a word, you set a timer for 5 minutes and write whatever pops into your head.  Fun times!