Post Game Pieces

After the game on Thursday, while waiting for Jock to come out of the locker room, I was standing with my sister-in-law and killing time. We're standing in the middle of a fairly large crowd of parents and teenagers, when my SIL says to me "Hey... that girl's got Jock's number on her cheek. Do you know her?"

No. No I didn't. And the immediate response from the mama in me was to wonder just who the heck was this girl who was so proudly proclaiming her support for my son? My reaction to that response won't win me any additional points in the Mom of the Year contest, at least in the Offspring Voting category. But it WAS kind of fun....

I walked right up to her, smiled, and said "Excuse me. I know you don't know me, but you've got my son's number on your cheek. And I have no idea who you are."

She smiled, blushed, and stammered "Oh.... I'm a friend of his and he asked me to wear his number!"

"And that's great, I'm glad you support him. But.... Who.Are.You?"

And then she told me her name. Which I actually recognized as someone he talks about and to frequently. I laughed, and told her I'd be sure to tell Jock that I embarrassed her. When I talked to him about it, he admitted that they're kinda crushing on each other right now, so we'll see where it goes.

She really is a cute little brunette with darling dimples when she smiles. And she's the first girl EVER who has come to watch him play. I think this one might be okay.

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Speaking of that game on Thursday, Jock told me something else that night.

At one point in the game, there was a 15 yard dead ball personal foul penalty called on the opposing team. The defensive player had shoved himself off my boy AFTER the play while he was still on the ground. The ref saw it, and called it. It's what the ref DIDN'T see that Jock was telling me about later.

Apparently, this kid was all kinds of a wienie, and when he was shoving off Jock, he shoved his hand right through that face mask and into Jock's face. And so my son? Bit his hand.

You saw that right. He. Bit. Him.

There is a part of me that is appalled at that. I mean, you don't just go around biting people. Certainly not when you're 16 years old. But another part of me? The more competitive, don't-be-putting-your-stupid-hands-in-my-boy's-face part of me?

Thinks that if you are dumb enough to put your hand in there on purpose, you deserve the teeth marks.

Do you think that thought redeems myself from asking strange girls why they're wearing my son's number on their face?