Sunday, February 11, 2007


February 2007 005
Originally uploaded by Wanda Harland.
I know he is my son, and I made him, but isn't he extraordinarily cute?

Finn started Little Dribblers soccer yesterday. I knew I'd like it when we wandered up, and there were a couple of women having a good old yarn holding their babies in the middle of a playing field - while a game was being played.

The kids all get assigned a real team. I was keen to get Real Madrid, but then I suppose Mr Beckham is now playing for Galaxy or something. Despite the fact I don't think he will pay the Little Dribblers a visit, I'm getting Finn into it just in case.

We ended up with Germany. I think that is pretty splendid. As my friend commented, he admires Germany's cool efficiency. I suspect a team of 4 year olds galloping around is about as far as one can imagine from coolly efficient, but they are freaking cute.


Jimmy said...

That is super choice.

If I am ever fortunate enough to have chitlins of my own, I am hoping that one of them will be the kid that scores 10 goals every game. And then i'll be able to sit on the sidelines and nod at other parents and point and say "that's my boy/girl" in some kind of terribly sage manner - as if I taught and didn't just, well, you know.

Mrs Smith said...

Very, very cute. If only they were all so appealing. I might be less inclined to make them cry.

Martha said...

Jimmy, yes, I'm hoping that will follow. Or perhaps I'll just be the mum with a thermos of gin.

Mrs Smith, I take that compliment very seriously. I know how much you don't love the childrens.

Rosiemunda said...

so cute... but alas not the reason for my comment. I cannot stop myself from making the most pretentious comment ever... 'women' not 'woman'
i realise this is just a typo (probably) and i am the worst speller in the world but this one really gets me for some reason - I think maybe because there was a poster about it in my speech and drama classroom, anyway sorry

I hate myself

nzm said...

You know, being an Antipodean on the other side of the world and having a German partner, has opened my eyes to things that I would not have given second glance to before.

1. German Soccer team. Who would have thought that I would ever know the names of all the players or that I would be following the German Football league games? I didn't know the NZ Soccer team players at all. But then again, the German team is damn good.

2. German Handball team. They won the World Handball championship last week. It was nailbiting stuff. Dang, those guys are tough - they play with blood, broken bones and ripped clothes. No namby-pamby, fall-to-the-ground, writhing-in-agony, clutching-whatever-body-part-got-slightly-tapped soccer players here. These guys are real men, and they throw the ball like it's a projectile hurled from a grenade-launcher. It would sting to be hit by one.

Back in NZ many years ago, my little brother took up soccer at aged 6, and it was so much fun to go see his team play. It was like watching a swarm of killer bees chasing a rabbit. Everywhere the ball went, 20 little boys would chase it. There were no such things as field positions - except for the 2 goalkeepers who stayed in their goals shouting at the other players.

Take your video camera - if you still have one!

Martha said...

Rosie love, you're welcome to point it out, purely a typo caused by my little fingers racing ahead of my brain. I shall change it forthwith.

My brother in law is married to a German also. I can't imagine handball ever being interesting, I'll take your work for it though.

We went to the NZ Golf Open a few years ago, and I thought that would be the most boring day of my life, it is amazing what you can become interested in....

Vicus Scurra said...

Martha. Dear. Please understand this. It is only those of the female persuasion who see the word "cute" as in some way favourable.
The remainder of us see it as an emetic.
I hope that the young man in question understands that, and grows up unscarred by the use of inappropriate adjectives.
And I hope he switches to Rugby when he is old enough, and if he is daft enough.