Everyone wants to be Mia Hamm when it comes to soccer (at least I do) and I had my chance this past Saturday at my friend’s graduation party. I came prepared to get a load of the great outdoors -most noted by my attire. Everyone showed up at the outdoor party in some kind of outfit or in an abaya. Me? I went looking like I was ready to do a Tae Bo workout. Sweatpants, sweater, running shoes, knee guards, arms bands, and a head band (okay maybe not the last three, but may as well have). I didn’t care that I looked like something out of 1994, I was ready to rumble, get down and dirty in the wet grass, and kick some soccer “donkey”.
Well our “team” included two friends and a 8 1/2 (you know how important that “1/2″ is to kids) year old because everyone else seemed too occupied with the benches and shaded patio. After showing off my useless kicks and corny tricks we decided to just kick some field points or something like that (can you tell I’m such a sporty chick).
Ah, it was finally my turn, my turn to shine. Of course I have to go after a friend that does magic tricks with her feet and a soccer ball. Yeah, amira you won’t look like an idiot after that neat-o thinga-ma-jig she did with her feet. You should stick with the basics (which I did).
I set the ball on a perfect spot on the ground, said bismillah and ran up to kick the ball. I imagined myself gracefully running and making the most powerful and amazing kick -ever. But the next thing I knew I was starring at the sky. On my back. In the mud.
Yes, I fell -more like slid half way across the whole dang park before the sheer weight of my butt meet the force of friction to stop me from slip n’ sliding into the lake. I got up and saw the mess I created. It looked like my butt threw up all over my sweatpants. Brown and green with a sprinkle of smushed grass. So pleasant. My hands were covered in mud and my sweatpants and sweater were ruined by mother earth.
Good news: I made the goal.
Bad news: I had grass in my crack.
I had to walk across the park and the patio (where the mass public was located) before getting to the restroom. I could feel my underwear get wetter with every step. Alhamdulilah I have such wonderful friends turned butt guards the whole trip to the ladies room. So there we were laughin‘ and dabbin‘ away at my buttocks.
Moral of the story: bring butt pads next time.
slip n’ slidin‘,
amira
