Once more unto the breach....

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;

(Shakespeare, Henry V, Act III, Scene I)

After two months of tryouts, rainouts, and workouts, not to mention innumerable trips in our cars to Arkansas... (did I say that?!?  I meant Garland)... after all that sweat by our sons, practice-night carpool negotiations by parents that will be featured in the next Game of Thrones novel, and a whole bunch of bottles of Febreeze laundry additive....  what we have all worked for is finally here.

Surprisingly, last year's paints
still worked!

Load 'em up, round 'em up:  Nationals awaits!   The HSAA family filled up the minivans, SUVs and various other vehicles and headed for Missouri, running ahead of the chilly front that finally broke the "summer snap" of October.  2 days ago, most of us were feeling the 90-degree humidity-laden Texas air, and now we will watch soccer games in 59 degree temps with wind.  It almost makes you want to break out the line from Sgt. Murtaugh in Lethal Weapon... "I'm getting too old for this".



But we're parents.  And it's what we do.

Photo courtesy P.Fletcher

So we decorate the cars, order the pizza, pay the tolls, and head up to Springfield.   Coaches Berrier arrived nice and early, with Jennifer quickly settling into her shark slippers (how did I not think to take a picture of those?!?  <update> someone sent me one!), and holding court at the threshold of their room to welcome players and families to the Greenstay Hotel.








And, our boys being the type of boys they are, an impromptu training session immediately broke out in the back parking lot....

And this is less
than half the total!

After a short time waiting around the hotel commons, where the soccer boys snuck surreptitious glances at the volleyball players on the other side of the lobby (and vice versa...), the stacks O' pizza began to arrive.

Once the pies had been whisked into the meeting room, the outside hallway began to take on the subtle undertones of the ticket door at an overbooked rock concert.  There was a whole lotta BOY in the hallway, and there was ZA in that room.  Fortunately, they did not have to wait too long.

Pizza, be afraid!

Coaches Berrier held a meeting with the parents in the main dining area, where we were all relieved to hear relative quiet coming from the room on the other side of the wall.  Some claimed they could hear the muted dying screams of the pizza, but I can not confirm that.  After the coaches laid out the details for the weekend, the rules for the boys in the hotel  (including the always-with-a-buddy rule-- see Team, Volleyball, Female, mentioned above), and other sundry information, JV team  manager Stacey Thorne did a remarkable skit where she portrayed a Southwest Airlines flight attendant as she demonstrated the proper technique for assembling a Laundry Ring of Deathly Smell for each player's soccer clothing.

Best line of the night?   Coach Curt, after the parents meeting which lasted more than 20 minutes, said "Well, we better get over there and talk to the boys before they finish their pizza".   He is such an optimist!

With that, the first night of the tournament came to a close.  To be fair, there may have been plenty of blog-worthy events post-pizza-party, but your intrepid blogger is far too old to stay up to document such shenanigans anyhoo  (See Sergeant, Murtaugh, Lethal Weapon, above).  If I receive any envelopes this morning with notes and a USB drive, I'll let you know.

Today is going to be a nice day for soccer.   Go Angels!