Soccer crush

Remember how I said that my husband was going to name our hypothetical child Arjen, after the soccer player Arjen Robben? Well, move over Arjen! Our new hypothetical child will be named Cesc.

Meet his namesake, Cesc Fabregas:

Cesc plays center midfield for Arsenal and the Spanish National Team (that won the 2010 World Cup). My husband and I both love him, but in very, very different ways.

Just another reason to love Spain.

So many things to write about...

... and not enough patience to do it. Here's a few random thoughts:

We've done quite a bit of traveling the last couple weekends- Columbus, OH and Raleigh, NC- and we have another trip coming up this weekend- Nantucket, MA. We visited my cousin and my friend respectively, but this weekend is another cousin's wedding. I'll also see my parents on this trip, so that's a nice benefit. I haven't seen them since Christmas... or maybe I have and I just don't remember.

I saw my first (live) MLS game - #1 Columbus Crew v FC Dallas - and my first (live) ACC soccer game - #3Wake Forest v. #1 Akron. I hate to admit it, but the college soccer game was so much better than the professional game. I don't mean that in terms of a preference for college sports over professional sports; I mean, I think the college players were more talented than the professional players and the game quality was that much higher. Granted, Akron is the #1 team, but I'd never pick #1 Alabama to beat the Superbowl Champion Saints in football, you know what I'm saying?

I don't understand why Southerners think their tailgates are so much better than Northern tailgates, or why Southerns think there's a difference between ACC and SEC tailgating. They're the same, except the food might be different. Might. I've certainly had pulled pork sandwiches at Northern tailgates, though I prefer brats and burgers for sure. I dunno, there's something about having the guts to stand outside in the freezing cold with nothing but a grill and alcohol to keep you warm that makes me think Northern tailgaters could kick some Southern tailgating butt.

The pool is officially closed for the season. This makes me very, very sad. However, I went to the pool the last day it was open and it was cold so I suppose it makes sense to close the pool. It doesn't have a heater, and overnight temperatures have gotten into the 60s so it definitely cools off overnight. However, it's still 90+ degrees during the day and a refreshing dip in the pool would be nice.

Our air conditioning broke. My northern friends turned off their air conditioning in the last week, but as I said, it's still 90+ degrees so we need our AC a few more weeks. We had a couple of miserable nights, but thankfully it got fixed this morning and I can sufficiently freeze myself tonight.

I voluntarily cleaned yesterday. I cleaned the bathtub, vacuumed, and washed the floor in the kitchen and bathrooms. And I cleaned the oven AGAIN. I have barely used the oven since the last time I cleaned it, but somehow it got disgusting again. I think it's a conspiracy of some sort. Today my back hurts. I blame the cleaning, especially the oven. However, I think it's a sign that I have earned a visit from a housekeeper.

Ahh. My brain feels less overwhelmed. Hopefully I didn't overwhelm yours with my randomness.

Hockey mom

I was a "hockey mom" before it had a political connotation. I'm not actually a mom of a hockey player, but I was once told by a college hockey player that I was like his mom so I think that's close enough.

The comment that I was like his mom wasn't because I cooked for him or did his laundry or nagged him relentlessly. Well, maybe it was because I nagged him relentlessly. I prefer to think it's because I cheered for him, cared for him, and generally supported him while he adjusted to college. I was president of his fan club, so to speak, and I believed in him when a lot of other people had given up on him. I referred to him as "my little hockey boy" even though he was anything but little. It was an affectionate term for how I felt about him. I thought of him as my little boy, my pseudo-son who I was responsible for taking care of throughout his college career.

I met my little hockey boy when I was assigned to work with him on his academics. He came to college seriously underprepared academically and had significant learning disabilities, both of which went undetected during his recruitment. Actually, his parents were very forthright that he had learning disabilities, but his transcripts and test scores didn't reveal the extent of these challenges. A month into the first semester of his freshman year of college, he was re-tested and diagnosed, and I was hired to work with him one-on-one.

I was tough on him. I pushed him to take school seriously and made him stay longer than he was required to in order to complete his work. He rewrote more papers than he probably needed to because I knew he could do better. I encouraged him to register for classes that he found interesting, even if they were going to challenge him academically more than he'd even been challenged in his school career. I made him a student-athlete.

As much as I pushed him, he also knew how much I cared for him. One of my favorite little hockey boy moments came after I had been working with him for over a year, and happened on a day when he needed both a butt kicking and a hug. I was on my way home from Milwaukee and got caught in a snowstorm. The interstate closed and I had to take an alternate route home so I was late to study table. I had a partner who supervised the other hockey guys so this normally wouldn't be a problem, but on this particular night, my little hockey boy didn't want to be there. He threatened to leave, saying that he didn't need to be there if I wasn't there. My partner and I exchanged text messages and I assured her I would be there soon, and she convinced him to stay. By the time I arrived, he was sulking and refusing to do any work.

I took him aside and said something like, "What is going on with you? You're acting like a butthead and that's not like you at all. You've never talked back to me or [my partner], you've never refused to do your work, and you've never been disrespectful to me, but this week you've done all of those things and that's not like you. What is going on with you?"

And my 6'2", 215-lb. hockey player, who was known to be an enforcer on the ice, teared up.

He shared how frustrated he was with his lack of playing time- he had essentially been benched- and how he felt like if he wasn't playing hockey, he didn't know if he should stay at this school because it was so academically difficult. I told him that I would support him in whatever he decided to do, but as far as I was concerned, he wasn't going to leave the university because he couldn't hack it academically. I also reminded him that he could talk to me whenever he needed to and that I would always be there for him.

Was I professional in how I handled the situation? Not really. I did confront the behavior, which is absolutely the right thing to do professionally, but it's also the way I would hope a parent would address a child who was acting out of character. Should I have said he was acting like a butthead? No. Would a mom tell her son he was acting like a butthead? Eh, maybe. The thing is, I never, EVER talked to him like that and so the fact that I called it like I saw it completely grabbed his attention. It's also the way I knew he had to be addressed - directly and without any bullshit - and this was because he'd always been talked to this way as hockey player. Hockey coaches don't do subtle.

Because I was not just a tutor but also a pseudo hockey mom, I grew very attached to these boys. I wanted what was best for them, and I wanted them to be successful in school, in hockey, and in life. I was just as happy when they did well in school as when they won games, but I was happier when I saw them make good decisions and act maturely, and I was happiest when I saw them achieve their goals that I knew they worked so hard to accomplish.

Last May, my little hockey boy graduated. This was a major accomplishment for him, and I couldn't be prouder of him. Because he persevered through school, he was able to keep playing hockey. And because he was able to develop as a player and a person over four years, he not only graduated in May, but also signed a professional contract to play hockey. This was his dream, and even though it was a difficult journey, he accomplished his goal.

I think back to all that was happening with my little hockey boy on that day when I confronted him, and I feel like it was a turning point for him. I don't know that I really had anything to do with turning it around both in school and in hockey, but I do know that his attitude changed after that day. I don't think I motivated him in anyway - he had to put in a lot of work on and off the ice to get back in the coaches' good graces and that was all his doing - but I think it helped him to know that he had someone in his corner.

The Charlotte Checkers schedule came out today, and I'm thrilled that they have two home games against the team that my little hockey boy will be playing for this year. I'm going to be at those games, cheering loudly, like the proud hockey mom I am.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

A few years ago, my husband and I decided that we wanted to visit all the MLB stadiums. Many people have written blogs, articles, and even books about planning a MLB stadium trip and the experience of road tripping. Authors have developed various rating systems to rank the ball parks in an effort to determine which is "the best." Much like others who have attempted to visit the stadiums, we have our own system which essentially that it is a non-system. But it works for us.

I'm don't remember exactly how we decided we were going to see all the stadiums, but I believe it began with a trip to San Francisco. We were living in Milwaukee, and my husband was sent to San Luis Obispo, California for a business trip. We decided to make a vacation out of it. After he finished the business portion of his trip, we drove up Highway 1 to San Francisco. We planned to be tourists and visit with one of my friends who was in grad school at UC-Berkeley. Somehow we decided being a tourist involved going to see a San Francisco Giants game at what was then called PacBell Park (now AT&T Park). Barry Bonds was in the midst of his chase for the home run title, and we'd seen the park and the famous splash hits into McCovey Cove on television so we thought we should see it for ourselves. I believe it was either during this game or during a discussion of this game that we decided we should see all the ball parks.

At this point, we had been to Miller Park (Milwaukee Brewers), Wrigley Field (Chicago Cubs), and Comiskey Park (or the US Cellular Field as the Chicago White Sox field is known now), and we added PacBell to the list. We had no rating system in place, and didn't try to create one, and we had no specific time line to complete our visits. We just wanted to see them all!

When we moved to Michigan, we had the opportunity to visit a few more stadiums. My husband became an instructor for the continuing education program at his accounting firm, and he was sent all over the country to teach. I also traveled for conferences, so we tagged along on trips whenever we could and tried to visit ball parks whenever possible. Often times we had poor timing and the home team was on a road trip (three trips to the Bay area and Oakland has never been in town!) or it was the off-season so we couldn't take in a game. Sometimes we made plans to visit a park and the business trip was canceled which was frustrating and disappointing.


However, a few times we said "Let's go to a game this weekend!" and we'd take off for whichever city we decided to visit. This was the case last weekend when we decided to drive to Atlanta to check Turner Field off the list. We had a free weekend, we had an excuse to go (our favorite team, the Milwaukee Brewers, were the Braves' opponent), and it was convenient so off we went!

The game was enjoyable and Turner Field is nice. Getting to Turner Field and into the game, however, was an exercise in patience that we both failed. They really need to be taught how to direct traffic and parking. Atlanta traffic is bad enough, but add in a 40,000 people heading to a Braves game and the result can only be described in one word: clusterfuck. Service at the concession stands was slow, but the people were nice and I suppose that's important too. Overall rating: Not as nice as PNC Park, Camden Yards, or PETCO Park, but better than Comerica Park. This rating system doesn't even include all the parks we've seen. I told you, we're scientific.


Whenever I tell people that we're doing this, I get one of three responses. 1) That's cool, I've heard of people doing that, or 2) I've always wanted to do that (for MLB or other professional sport), or 3) Why? Visiting the ball parks isn't just about visiting the ball parks. We love sports and we enjoy baseball so we do like the experience of being at the ball game.

However, it's also a way for us to travel and to see the country. It's an excuse to spend time together, to be spontaneous, and to just get away from our daily lives. We both have professional and personal goals, and though we support each other, we accomplish these tasks individually. We have family goals as well, but they generally involve money, retirement, housing, and the like. The stadium tour is our common goal, something we both want to achieve, but more importantly, something we want to achieve together.

And as we visit the stadiums, we make memories that we can share for years to come. I may not remember every Easter I've spent with my husband, but I do remember the Easter we spent in San Diego, watching the Padres play the Giants from the all you can eat seats at PETCO Park. It was 75 and sunny, and I enjoyed every ray of sun on my face after a long Michigan winter, and the sip of every Diet Coke after giving up soda for Lent. I also remember my husband looking completely happy and relaxed after a draining few months dealing with the bankruptcy of General Motors. We've visited about half of the stadiums thus far, and are eager to see the rest. We've tentatively planned for one more this season, and hopefully we'll sneak a few more in there as well. With each ball park, it's not only a step closer to our goal, but it's also a shared experience that I can cherish every day, even if/when the time comes that my husband can no longer take me out to the ball game.

A real Real Housewife activity

Today, I'm doing my best impersonation of a real Real Housewife of Charlotte. I'm spending the day at a country club.

My husband and I belong to a country club. It's not what you think - we didn't pay an enormous initiation fee or have ridiculous dues or anything. Country clubs are a way of life in Charlotte. For example, we have three, no FOUR, within a two mile radius of our place. It's kind of ridiculous. Anyway, our neighborhood has a country club and the initiation fees and dues are part of the home owners association so it just made sense to join.

Our club offers a lot, including a restaurant/bar with good food, four televisions, and a table next to an outlet. Really, the table next to the outfit is key for me because I like to go to the restaurant/bar and work. Generally it's very quiet, except for Fridays when all the golfers descend upon quiet place, drink a lot, and get obnoxiously loud. There is also no internet access, which is usually good for me because I get distracted by things like the internet. (I can get internet, when I need to, but that's another story.) The other major benefit is that I can get up and go to the bathroom while I'm working without fear of someone swiping my stuff, which is the major downside to places like Panera and Starbucks. I love those places, but when I'm working alone, use of the bathroom usually signals that it's time to pack up and go.

So today I'm working at the club, but not without a little eavesdropping first.

Usually it's just men in here, who stop in for a drink and a snack after golfing. They have two conversations: 1) Tiger Woods, and whether his extracurricular activities have affected their perception of him, his popularity, and/or his golf game, and 2) Poorly dissecting whatever non-golf sporting event is happening at the time. For men who claim to be sports fanatics and refuse to let me change the televisions off of the ESPN networks, they really know very little about sports. For example, this was the conversation I overheard during the World Cup:

Dope 1: "The US plays tomorrow (Thursday) at 10am against Slovakia ."
Actually, they played Friday against Slovenia, as I had just told the dope who incorrectly repeated this information to his friend.

Dope 2: "They have the possibility of advancing, but we gotta get through England first."
All true, except the US had already played England and tied 1-1.

My favorite quotes were during March Madness, but I can't remember the quotes for the life of me. I do remember thinking, "This is ACC country, the supposed Mecca of college basketball, and you don't even know that UNI upset Kansas?"

The women, on the other hand, gossip about the other women in the club. They talk about everything, and quite viciously at times. Today, it was about a woman in their tennis league and whether she can really afford to continue in the tennis league, given her financial situation. I mean, her car has 200,000 miles on it and if she can't afford to get a new one, how can she afford to play in the tennis league? Over a lunch, these women decided to replace the woman with the difficult financial situation. They weren't going to ask her, of course, whether she was planning to continue playing tennis or really what her financial situation was. They just were going to replace her. Got it.

This is my fear of becoming a real housewife - I could become one of these women. I gossip and judge people of course, and I'm obviously doing it right now, but I don't spread rumors about people and I definitely don't make decisions to cut people out of my activities. Rather, I'm afraid that this will become normal for me because this is normal conversation at the country club. It's part of our culture, and I'm afraid that it will become part of my normal world if I become too involved in these activities.

However, their cattiness or the men's ignorance of sports doesn't prevent me from spending my Thursday afternoon hanging at the country club just like a real housewife of Charlotte should.

And this is why I don't have kids

Some of the commercials during the World Cup have been pretty good. Others, like the Hyundai commercials, have been a stretch. There's one commercial that gets at the idea of loyalty, and talks about how one family named their baby after an entire soccer team to show loyalty. It reminded me of the Nike commercial about destiny when they show Wayne Rooney scoring a goal for England, and then all the babies in the hospital being named Wayne.

In this vein, I asked my husband, "If we were to name our hypothetical baby after a soccer player, what would we name him or her?"

Without turning missing a beat, my husband replied, "Arjen." (That's Arjen Robben from the Netherlands for those who don't know).

Yep, that's why we don't have kids.

Who says Americans don't like soccer?

I have World Cup fever, and I know a lot of other people do too. This is my evidence for today:
We were in the middle of jogging across the pool, and one of the little old ladies said, "I guess Uruguay advanced in the World Cup. I thought it was a tie. I guess I should've watched the end of the game!"

I loved this for a lot of reasons. One, I never would've guessed this little old lady was watching the game. Also, the game did end in a tie but then it went to extra time and penalty kicks, plus the end of the game was crazy and she should've watched it. Mostly though, I loved that she said this because it shows the mass appeal of the World Cup despite the insistence that Americans don't like soccer.

For the record, I enjoy watching soccer. I haven't always been a huge soccer fan, but I "played" in high school (I use the term played loosely) and my sisters played growing up. One of my sisters was very good, and probably could've played in college if she wanted. My husband, however, is obsessed with soccer. He played and coached, and through his coaching I fell in love with the game. He taught me the tactics and showed me player development and introduced me to international soccer. And not just, "Let's watch Arsenal play Manchester United." (Those are two of the top teams in the English Premier League, arguably the top league in competitive soccer, for those who don't know). Rather, my husband taught me about styles of play: Total Soccer of the Ajax and Dutch systems, the futsal and free play of Brazil, etc. I learned the importance of working the ball through the midfield and when to take a defender one-on-one. I learned the game, and through learning the game, I learned to love the sport. It really is a beautiful game. I also learned about player development, and realized the way each country organizes its youth system has a big impact on players' educational attainment, especially in the United States. And from there, I found a potential dissertation topic.

As a side note, did you know soccer is the most frequently played sport for American youth under age 12? Americans play the sport, Americans like the sport. It's the organization of youth sports in this country that changes all that, plus the media attention, that change all that. But that's another blog... and hopefully my dissertation...

When people tell me they don't like soccer, I often ask why and generally get the same response: "It's boring" often coupled with "There's not enough scoring." But these are the same people who don't understand the game because they didn't play it growing up, and haven't taken the time to learn about it. With the number of children growing up with the sport now, the number of people who don't understand the game is decreasing while the number who appreciate it is rapidly increasing. In addition, the US population is changing and includes many more cultures who do appreciate soccer. "American" isn't a homogenous group, so saying "Americans" don't like soccer is just plain wrong.

Besides, if it's so boring, why is it the most popular sport in the world?