With so much going on in the news right now, from Patrick Swayze's death to Tom Brady's return to the football field, to Kanye West the nut job, it was really hard to find one topic of conversation this morning. However, my lovely wife provided me with enough material to last a while last evening.
As many of you know, Nichole and I (or Marcole, as I like to call us) play soccer 3 days a week. It's a great way to get/stay in shape, we have met a ton of cool people through it, and it's just a good time in general. Well, we play Monday nights in Saco, on a small, converted hockey rink with turf on it. The nets are small, the field is much smaller than regulation, but the action never stops. It can be just as exhausting playing on this small field as it is playing full field 11 versus 11.
Last nights game was at 9:00, against our fiercest competition, If You Seek Amy. We came rolling up right at game time, with our opponent leaving the field. I'm still not sure why they left, as we got the win by forfeit. Fortunately, another opponent was kind enough to stick around to play against us. At this point, it is just a friendly match, as nothing is on the line. However, our team is short 1 female player according to the league rules. Despite the fact that this game doesn't count in the standings and we are just playing for fun, the game official, who resembles some sort of combination of a leprechaun and an ewok, decides to not only strictly enforce the rules, he decides to be rather dickish about it. Well, by halftime my sweet little wife is tired, and finds it unfair that we are forced to play a player down, despite the games friendly nature, and gives the game official a piece of her mind. Now, for those of you that know Nichole, she is very well mannered and not quick to spew venom at people. Tonight was different, much different. Not liking the way the official responded to her request to allow us to sub her out, as she was very tired from having to play the whole game to this point, she decides to get rather lippy. This is where things start to spiral out of control.
Despite repeated attempts to get her to keep her mouth closed and just play, she continues to toss sarcasm at the official, in fact, she actually told him to just go home. At this point, sick of hearing her bark at him, he stops the game and tells us that either she keeps her mouth shut or we all go home. One would assume that this would get her back to the straight and narrow. One would assume wrong. Now she actually sits down on the field. Literally, ass down on the turf. Really honey?! I'm standing right beside her, playing goalie, trying to figure out what the hell is happening?! I mean, this is the same woman that gives me crap for talking too much to referees during basketball games, reminding me that it does me no good. Now she is sitting on the ground in some sort of revolt against the official, knowing it will do her absolutely no good, but unwilling to let things go because of the way he responded to her at halftime. Finally, we finish the game and she storms off the field, mumbling curse words under her breath.
At this point, the entire team realizes how angry she is, and they now understand why. Our team approaches the game official just to speak with him, find out why he wouldn't let us play even with the other team, especially because it was a game that didn't count for anything. He wanted nothing to do with this conversation, storming off angrily. He barks out that next time we play he is just going to go home so he doesn't have to listen to us. I'm pretty sure if he officiates our playoff game(s) next week we will not get a single call to go our way, if he even sticks around for it.
In closing, I want to re-emphasize how calm and mild mannered my lovely wife is. She is the one that always settles me down when things start to get me excited. However, last night, she was hot, hungry and tired from all the running, and was not happy with little Mr. Gremlin's approach. She showed me a new side of her, which I will happily use against her in the future, especially when a future baby Marcole throws a temper tantrum. I will know exactly where that sort of behavior comes from, and won't soon let her forget it, I'm just saying...
About Me
- Mark
- I've always wondered if people actually read this stuff. I never do when I'm on other pages. Well, in case, for some strange reason, you find it necessary, I'll give you a little knowledge. I was born in The County. For those of you who don't konw better, that would be Aroostook County. For those of you who do, your jokes won't work on me, they are lame. I'm the son of an investment banker that squandered his every penny on tuna fish sandwiches in the late 80's, and my mother was the lead singer for the Bangles. Neither of those is true, but again, I'm convinced nobody is reading this anyways. I met my wife at a carnival, and we were married by the bearded lady in front of the entire clown brigade. I have a daughter who is training for the 2012 Olympics where she will compete in the Triple Jump and Javelin. We live in a nice little shanty in the woods and are hoping to one day have running water. Any questions?
