No pictures today.
It started out great, and then went to pretty bad, and then okay-ish.
The varsity goalie was sick. Christine was going to move up and play the varsity game. Very exciting.
At the field in Manhattan Beach, she went to the restroom before the game to change her clothes into her uniform. While she was gone, the brown-nosing freshman goalie (I would use a different descriptive word here but it wouldn't be appropriate, especially in print...however true...) talked her way into the position. WHAT???????
It was B.A.D. The situation it created amongst both teams. REAL BAD. A MESS-BAD.
I talked to the head coach about it between games. She is a young 20-something. Nice gal. Not much coaching experience. We do what we can to get coaches for girls teams around here in such a new to us sport. She told me she realized the minute she put her in the goal she had made the wrong decision, but didn't know how to handle it. Great.
Christine was ready to quit. How it was handled spoke a novel--even if not accurate--without the coach saying one word. We talked her through it. Her previous coach talked her through it. Her teammates talked her through it. The parents talked her throught it. I got up and took a loooooong walk around the campus. I delivered strongly worded speeches in between praying for forgiveness for my anger and pleas to help my daughter play the game of her life.
She went out and pitched a shut out. 12-0.
Now that's OUR GIRL!
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