Turf
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Grass smells delicious on cool spring evenings, and mud has never looked more beautiful than it does between my cleats and on my pants. My training regimen will be as demanding as possible for the next ten days; after the first game I’ll evaluate my status: Lean athletic goal machine? Spindly youth pretending to have asthma?
Hey Tim, Its me Mr. Panic (frank)…Im just letting u know that I changed my blog on to the WordPress server..I think you should try it…that way non blog members can comment as well….
anyways heres the URL
cloud09media.wordpress.com
if I had a son, he’d be playing soccer. he’d have practice 2x a week and I would growl at my partner for coaching his own little team on a _3rd_ night of the week. i couldn’t imagine my life tied up by soccer 3 nights a week . . . i’d be cranky, you know? and his twin brother probably wouldn’t want to play soccer until we got out the movie _Soccer Dog_ with our tacos for dinner . . . then suddenly he’d realize that he missed being a star . . .
oh oh! then he’d write a dreadful essay about his mother in a freshman composition class . . .
ehem. good luck with the team and keep us posted.
Do you think the dreadful essay would blame you for not showing him _Soccer Dog_ soon enough?
We don’t practice at all, and I have mixed feelings about that. I love playing and I want to play well, but there are other things.