The rules of the game!

I don’t know how your family’s conversation goes when you’re sitting around the dinner table, but this is how ours went the other night.

“Fifty boys went out for baseball,” My daughter said excitedly.

“Is that good?” I asked.

“It’s the most they’ve ever had. They’re going to have a great year.”

“Why did so many boys go out this year?”

“Two girls joined the team.”

“Is that why?”

“Yes.”

“What’s that about?”

My son-in-law popped into the conversation, “If there isn’t a girl’s team in a certain sport, then they can play with the boys. That’s why a girl was on the boy’s wrestling team this year.”

“I saw that. That doesn’t seem right.”

“That’s the rule.”

My daughter piped up, “Just ask David McCree how hard it was to wrestle a girl?”

“Was she that good?”

“No, just picture tall David, 177 pounds and a short girl, 177 pounds. There was no way he could take hold of her.”

“Did he win?”
 My daughter gave me a strange look, “Do you think David McCree would ever let a girl beat him in wrestling? I don’t think so. He wouldn’t be able to look at his classmates the next day.”

Then she said, “I won’t ever have to worry about Creede wrestling a girl as a heavy weight. There is no girl alive who would ever have her weight of 280 posted up on the board.”

“Well, what about that girl who was a kicker on one of the high school football teams this year?”

“I guess they had to let her play.” My daughter shook her head.

“Do you remember how you wanted to play football in high school. You went to the principal at Sandia High, and ask him if you could play on the boy’s football team. He said no. But if you want to play football, you should formed a girl’s team, and get the other high schools in Albuquerque involved.”

 “Yah, I remember. We formed a girl’s football team that year at Sandia. We got some of the other girls to make up a team from their school.

Then I told her, “I still have the full-page write-up in the Albuquerque Tribune. It had a picture of you on the football field. They had a reporter come to the school and interview you. Do you remember? You were determined to play football. You even went to the coaches and borrowed the boy’s old shoulder pads and uniforms. I thought it took courage for you to stand up and organize a team and get the other schools involved.

“I remember going to Eldorado High School and watching the girls play. You stirred up a lot of buzz. A lot of the people gave me their opinion after reading the newspaper. They thought it was outlandish that a girl or girls should be playing football. In fact, I had several ask me how I could let my daughter play football.

“I told them, it was better for you to be playing football with the girls, than be beat up by the boys.”

 Then I ask my daughter, “In hindsight, why did you do it? Did you want to play football that badly or because they said NO to you?

“Neither. I lost Homecoming Queen, so I wanted to do something. I just remember having my copper formal on the night before at the Homecoming Dance, and I was wearing football shoulder pads the next day on the field.”

“Well, it should be an exciting year with the boys baseball team. Those girls are going to add to the success of the team.” My son-in-law said.

“Well, at least it’s not contact sports,” I piped up.

“The boys could’ve joined the girl’s volleyball team this year, because the school didn’t offer boys volley ball.”

My daughter said, “Have you seen their short-shorts?”

“Yes.” My son-in-law said, “I’m surprised more boys didn’t go out for Girl’s Volley ball, they could’ve, you know.”

So there you go. You’ve been privy to our family conversation.

Final Brushstroke! Know when to take up someone else’s cause. You might be fighting for them, but they just wanted Homecoming Queen. You might not be able to change the rules. You don’t have to play if it goes against your convictions. You might have to take up another sport or form your own team.