This weekend I spent a chunk of time attending the extracurricular events of several students. This time-honored tradition is always a good idea at the beginning of the school year, especially when it is prompted by cute invitations whispered at the end of class or hand-written notes. Believe me, it's almost impossible to say no, regardless of the request--which is why some former colleagues have still not forgiven me for dragging us all, en masse, to a three-hour performance of Il Trovatore to see one of our students play Child #11.
This Saturday evening I found myself about as far away from "The Anvil Chorus" as you can get. Instead of listening to Italian lyrics, I sat on the bleachers of a local sports park with the math teacher ES and her fiance watching a peewee football game. I had not previous attended a peewee football event (an actual term, along the same lines as 'little league', for under-14 tackle football) and I'm so glad my first experience occurred in Texas. Because I suspect--and I don't think I'm going out on a limb here--that Texas does peewee football unlike any other state.
The first thing that struck me was the sheer amount of equipment and infrastructure involved. Of course, the boys all had full uniforms and gear. But then the coaches had those head-set things. The bleachers were packed with parents and families, and the scoreboard rivaled any high school field in the country (though perhaps not in Texas). There were cheerleaders, too (naturally?), with matching uniforms and pom-poms. (Another student of ours was on the cheer-leading squad, which we didn't know until we showed up.) At halftime, they did a little show on the 50-yard line. The only thing, frankly, that didn't look right out of Friday Night Lights was the level of skill on the field, which was age appropriate, shall we say. Though I was impressed with the variety and level of plays, as narrated to ES and me by the fiance. (He was relieved to at least be at a sporting event, having been pressed into watching three students at a ballet folklorico performance the weekend before.)
It was at this event that I was pleased to witness another time-honored Texas tradition: the asking for a "Coke" and the receiving of a completely different soda because it is understood that "Coke" really means any carbonated beverage from a can. As a college graduate, I'm aware of the wide variety of synonyms for soda used throughout the country. But I had never suspected that when ES asked her fiance to bring her back "a Coke" from the snack bar that he would somehow know to return with Dr. Pepper. (Much to my chagrin, after I asked for a sip).
Me: OMG! This isn't Coke!
ES: Umm, no, it's Dr. Pepper.
Me: But, but...I distinctly heard you ask for a Coke!
ES: I didn't ask for "Coke." I asked for "a Coke." A Coke means anything.
Me: But how did he know it meant Dr. Pepper in this particular case?
ES: He just did.
I'm sure they will have a long and happy marriage.
Our student's team ended up being victorious, despite the fact that their opponents ran through a Go Spartans sign as their contribution to the halftime festivities and had a player called Blaze Murphy (for real!) Most of the touchdowns were scored by Number 8, who couldn't have been more than 4-feet tall, but must have run at least 120 yards during the game. In the end, our student smiled shyly, then remembered he was cool and ignored us as he and his teammates whooped up their victory. Again, very age appropriate.
The second student was singing in the youth choir at church. I have never before attended the same church as one of my students, but it makes for a nice connection, and we rarely attend the same service. But I made it to the 9 a.m. to hear the choir. After the service, she not only smiled, but acknowledged my presence and, in a rare middle school move, even introduced me to her friends.
Attending events after hours can get overwhelming as the word gets out among the kids and even more invitations flow in. I don't want to pretend I go to everything because I don't. But like anything that takes extra time and seems like a dubious idea when it's 6 p.m. on a Saturday night and you have groceries in the car and have been out all day--it's always worth it in the end.
This Saturday evening I found myself about as far away from "The Anvil Chorus" as you can get. Instead of listening to Italian lyrics, I sat on the bleachers of a local sports park with the math teacher ES and her fiance watching a peewee football game. I had not previous attended a peewee football event (an actual term, along the same lines as 'little league', for under-14 tackle football) and I'm so glad my first experience occurred in Texas. Because I suspect--and I don't think I'm going out on a limb here--that Texas does peewee football unlike any other state.
The first thing that struck me was the sheer amount of equipment and infrastructure involved. Of course, the boys all had full uniforms and gear. But then the coaches had those head-set things. The bleachers were packed with parents and families, and the scoreboard rivaled any high school field in the country (though perhaps not in Texas). There were cheerleaders, too (naturally?), with matching uniforms and pom-poms. (Another student of ours was on the cheer-leading squad, which we didn't know until we showed up.) At halftime, they did a little show on the 50-yard line. The only thing, frankly, that didn't look right out of Friday Night Lights was the level of skill on the field, which was age appropriate, shall we say. Though I was impressed with the variety and level of plays, as narrated to ES and me by the fiance. (He was relieved to at least be at a sporting event, having been pressed into watching three students at a ballet folklorico performance the weekend before.)
It was at this event that I was pleased to witness another time-honored Texas tradition: the asking for a "Coke" and the receiving of a completely different soda because it is understood that "Coke" really means any carbonated beverage from a can. As a college graduate, I'm aware of the wide variety of synonyms for soda used throughout the country. But I had never suspected that when ES asked her fiance to bring her back "a Coke" from the snack bar that he would somehow know to return with Dr. Pepper. (Much to my chagrin, after I asked for a sip).
Me: OMG! This isn't Coke!
ES: Umm, no, it's Dr. Pepper.
Me: But, but...I distinctly heard you ask for a Coke!
ES: I didn't ask for "Coke." I asked for "a Coke." A Coke means anything.
Me: But how did he know it meant Dr. Pepper in this particular case?
ES: He just did.
I'm sure they will have a long and happy marriage.
Our student's team ended up being victorious, despite the fact that their opponents ran through a Go Spartans sign as their contribution to the halftime festivities and had a player called Blaze Murphy (for real!) Most of the touchdowns were scored by Number 8, who couldn't have been more than 4-feet tall, but must have run at least 120 yards during the game. In the end, our student smiled shyly, then remembered he was cool and ignored us as he and his teammates whooped up their victory. Again, very age appropriate.
The second student was singing in the youth choir at church. I have never before attended the same church as one of my students, but it makes for a nice connection, and we rarely attend the same service. But I made it to the 9 a.m. to hear the choir. After the service, she not only smiled, but acknowledged my presence and, in a rare middle school move, even introduced me to her friends.
Attending events after hours can get overwhelming as the word gets out among the kids and even more invitations flow in. I don't want to pretend I go to everything because I don't. But like anything that takes extra time and seems like a dubious idea when it's 6 p.m. on a Saturday night and you have groceries in the car and have been out all day--it's always worth it in the end.
Blaze Murphy? I bet there's 4 of them in peewee football in Texas.
ReplyDeleteMust be like asking for a "kleenix" or offering to "xerox" something on an HP copier, but hello? Kleenix doesn't come in flavors...
ReplyDelete