“I am writing about you.”
“There’s nothing to write about me.”
I know I write a lot about my dad. After all, he is the reason why I am so into soccer in the first place (and also, because he was the one who taught me how to make a grown man cry), however there is another semi-important person in my upbringing: my mother.
(note the Puma top)
You see, while my dad watched soccer from the couch, it was my mother who watched me from a fold-up lawn chair. Baseball, basketball, swim meets, skating (okay, so maybe not always from a fold-up lawn chair), it was my mother in the stands, cheering me on. Or, talking to the other mothers. Whichevs.
But here’s the thing: although she supported her children’s amateur sport ambitions, she never cared for soccer. Probably because my father banned any of us from playing (for good reason, I was being kind when I said “amateur” and “ambitions.” And “sport,” for that matter). Now, don’t get me wrong, she always humoured soccer in our home. She never complains when 20 people show up to watch games in our family room, she lets us blare the tv if a game is on during dinner so we can run down if a goal is scored, she put a soccer playing angel as our tree topper this year, and once she even knitted in front of the tv while a TFC game was on.
However, that is the only soccer she’s ever really watched.
Then, I got this brilliant idea: why not take her to TFC? So, after much pleading, temper tantrums, “but their keeper is Swiss! You can bring him some Kägi-frei!” and me omitting a constant, high pitched, “eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee” noise for 15 straight minutes, she agreed to maybe come to a game. Only if it was sunny out. And above 25 degrees. And on a weekend. And she had some place to sit down. And it wasn’t windy. And she was safely away from 113. And if she didn’t have to go anywhere near a chip butty.
Hot dog! See you all for NYRB!
So, if you see a Filipino lady with a German accent at the game with me (“I do not have a German accent.” – in a German accent), come say hi. I now have about 5 months to try to convince her to wear a TFC shirt.
(soon to be irl, not through MS Paint)
Post script: For the love of God, please have a proper Swiss flag by then…