Student Blog: Women's Soccer Team in Great Britain
by Lainey Nichols '09
A good night's sleep was had by all, and thank the dear Lord for that —we played a national team this morning. We warmed up on a remote field (on top of a hill) where the shadow of one cloud rolling by directly followed the next and patterned the grass like a green Holstein cow with rotating spots.
" Uhhharrgh. Pahar. Pft. Take care, my chickens ... weather looks good now, but guess what Wales is known for?! It's hills and it's waHH-err!" Oh, Daivey.
The differences between U.S. women soccer players and European women soccer players is uncanny; we have long hair, they have bobs; we wear high socks, theirs are low. Even our athleticism is a strange opposition to their marshy home field and economical movements. It is fascinating how varied our approaches are to the same game.
Surprisingly, we did more than hold our own this morning—the loaded title of National Team had personally made me a wee bit apprehensive, but right off the bat, we locked them in their own defensive third and carried possession for the majority of the game.
The wind was unbelievable, as evidenced by a few corners we took. Dre took a corner that had looked like an ugly shank and at the time I was mildly disappointed in the loss of an opportunity. I thought quietly to myself as a big, bad, senior, " I'll just take the next one and get it done myself." A few minutes later, I had my chance and I'll be darned if it didn't sail into the trees behind the goal just as Dre's did!
" Nick-kowes!!!" Coach yelled.
That water-logged Brine may as well have been a beach ball in that Welsh wind. Haha. All I could do was give an astonished chuckle under my breath and joke with Dre later about my quiet arrogance against the elements.
We lost 1-0, but I am confident when I say that the score was not indicative of our level of play. It is going to be an exciting year for women's soccer.
The good cappen trucked us to lunch, where Lys and I purchased a Yorkie candy bar — its slogan being " IT'S NOT FOR GIRLS!!!" Haha. This is the most unbelievable candy bar I have ever seen. Donning a silhouetted female with superimposed big red " do not" sign over her small frame, this 500 calorie candy bar could have been the He-Man Woman Haters' official club snack.
With dozen or more people in line behind us, Lys and purchased the candy bar from a quiet, pale chap, who looked like he was above such things as his current position as a pop shop employee.
" Are you sure we can purchase this?" I asked.
" Because ‘IT'S NOT FOR GIRLS!!!'" Lys blurted out.
" Bahhhha! Pahahaha ... Paha."
The clerk replied in a nasaly british voice, " Yesss, I'm sure it's appropriate."
" Really?!!! Because IT'S NOT FOR GIRLS!!! AHAHhaha. Pfah."
" It's entirely awl-riiight" said Mr. Nasal, wanting us to go away.
We continued on to the airport — time to go to Ireland. Time to say goodbye to Daivey. What a horrible thing. How unnatural it is to leave forever a personality you have taken on board so quickly. We certainly love that old man. Loyally, he went above and beyond to help us with our bags and stood strong by his coach, his vessel, after a barrage of farewell squenches enveloped his round belly. I looked back and saw him roll up his sleeves to board his ship and reveal his colorful Koi tatoos on either arm. We'll probably never see our old Sea Dog again.