(no subject)
I think I have mentioned here before that I went to a teeny tiny high school that was mostly populated with kids who were equal parts smart and socially inept. Of course, the older we got, the harder we tried to not be socially inept, but being smooth and cool in public is a hard skill to learn.
Our school was too small for athletics, so it wasn't like we had rivals or anything like that, but our campus was just a few blocks from the campus of a regular public high school called El Modena. When some of us became old enough to drive, we started venturing out in groups after school. Most of the time we ended up at the Swenson's Ice Cream place down the street. For a time, it seemed like every time we went to Swenson's, we'd encounter some kids from El Modena, and I'm pretty sure they could smell awkwardness on us and there were rude words exchanged often. Not to say we ever got into any physical fights, but there were words pretty regularly, and I distinctly remember feeling like they saw right through us - like they knew we were weird kids from that weird school, like it was obvious we were not anywhere near as cool and smooth in public as we were pretending to be, and they were damn well going to put us in our place.
The point to all this is that the Frosh/Soph soccer team the boy is on played El Modena this afternoon. Final score: Brea-Olinda: 5, El Modena: 1.
It was deeply satisfying to see my son's team kick El Modena's asses. Deeply.
Our school was too small for athletics, so it wasn't like we had rivals or anything like that, but our campus was just a few blocks from the campus of a regular public high school called El Modena. When some of us became old enough to drive, we started venturing out in groups after school. Most of the time we ended up at the Swenson's Ice Cream place down the street. For a time, it seemed like every time we went to Swenson's, we'd encounter some kids from El Modena, and I'm pretty sure they could smell awkwardness on us and there were rude words exchanged often. Not to say we ever got into any physical fights, but there were words pretty regularly, and I distinctly remember feeling like they saw right through us - like they knew we were weird kids from that weird school, like it was obvious we were not anywhere near as cool and smooth in public as we were pretending to be, and they were damn well going to put us in our place.
The point to all this is that the Frosh/Soph soccer team the boy is on played El Modena this afternoon. Final score: Brea-Olinda: 5, El Modena: 1.
It was deeply satisfying to see my son's team kick El Modena's asses. Deeply.