2008 Field day-Cozumel,Mexico
Find Ammba in The Last Photo
Remember field day at school? That's what today was for Ammba and family. I dread this day for fear that I will succumb to the parental peer pressure to participate. I have competed in many venues, but none are as deadly as the annual gladiator soccer match.Kamikaze parents who want to impress their children with a suicidal display of their long forgotten athletic prowess. As soon as I arrived a friend of mine asked "Have you come to view the carnage, or be part of it?" I gave my carefully prepared excuse, that as much as I would love another surgery, I feel a moral and ethical obligation to record this event for future generations to learn from. A doctor friend joined us to give his assesment of the situation. His response was"It's not even noon and I 've seen an acl tear, 2 sprained akles and a severly torn hamstring." It looked like a scene from the movie "The Longest Yard" He then commented that " You know I'm not getting paid for this. Jody, why aren't you out there? At least you're in good shape." I held up my camera and said "Oh! The sacrifices a dutiful parent makes to record his childs happiness is reward enough for me!" My doctor friend sneers and replies" Bullshit , you just don't want to get hurt" I say in response " That too Dr.P. That too. I'm a pussy and proud of it" We both laugh and go our seperate ways. I bring attention to the photo of the handcart being used as an assault weapon against her own child. This little spill cost the yellow team the race. What It doesn't show is the unmerciful brow beating the child took before she was carried off to the ambulance. Ah! the joy of team sports involving healthy interaction between parent and child. Following this was a demolition derby involving shopping carts, an obstacle course and a relay race. The element of danger came in when the occupant either jumped into the cart or was forcefully yanked from it. After this death race, Tammy taught a brief yoga class for parent and child. This temporarily calmed the blood thirsty crowd. Next was a demonstration of martial arts for tots. Board breakng and primal screams rekindled the spirit of this angry mob. By 1pm most of the spunk had been drained from the masses. An uneventful parent teacher basketball game wound the afternoon down to the big finale. What came next was a joyous bruhaha. The hurling of projectile liquid grenades at one another untill fully soaked. If this didn't accomplish that a crowd control fire hose is blasted at the young gamesters. Their faces do look a group of war weary soldiers being told the war is over. Hurray!! We lived!! Although this was intended to be a satirical look at the innate competition of parents about and through their offspring, I don't discourage genuine play. I feel there is enough struggling to meet society's standards and field day should be about play, not winning and losing. I'll try not to sprain my ankle jumping down from this soap box. Submitted and hopefully not deleted. Jody
Remember field day at school? That's what today was for Ammba and family. I dread this day for fear that I will succumb to the parental peer pressure to participate. I have competed in many venues, but none are as deadly as the annual gladiator soccer match.Kamikaze parents who want to impress their children with a suicidal display of their long forgotten athletic prowess. As soon as I arrived a friend of mine asked "Have you come to view the carnage, or be part of it?" I gave my carefully prepared excuse, that as much as I would love another surgery, I feel a moral and ethical obligation to record this event for future generations to learn from. A doctor friend joined us to give his assesment of the situation. His response was"It's not even noon and I 've seen an acl tear, 2 sprained akles and a severly torn hamstring." It looked like a scene from the movie "The Longest Yard" He then commented that " You know I'm not getting paid for this. Jody, why aren't you out there? At least you're in good shape." I held up my camera and said "Oh! The sacrifices a dutiful parent makes to record his childs happiness is reward enough for me!" My doctor friend sneers and replies" Bullshit , you just don't want to get hurt" I say in response " That too Dr.P. That too. I'm a pussy and proud of it" We both laugh and go our seperate ways. I bring attention to the photo of the handcart being used as an assault weapon against her own child. This little spill cost the yellow team the race. What It doesn't show is the unmerciful brow beating the child took before she was carried off to the ambulance. Ah! the joy of team sports involving healthy interaction between parent and child. Following this was a demolition derby involving shopping carts, an obstacle course and a relay race. The element of danger came in when the occupant either jumped into the cart or was forcefully yanked from it. After this death race, Tammy taught a brief yoga class for parent and child. This temporarily calmed the blood thirsty crowd. Next was a demonstration of martial arts for tots. Board breakng and primal screams rekindled the spirit of this angry mob. By 1pm most of the spunk had been drained from the masses. An uneventful parent teacher basketball game wound the afternoon down to the big finale. What came next was a joyous bruhaha. The hurling of projectile liquid grenades at one another untill fully soaked. If this didn't accomplish that a crowd control fire hose is blasted at the young gamesters. Their faces do look a group of war weary soldiers being told the war is over. Hurray!! We lived!! Although this was intended to be a satirical look at the innate competition of parents about and through their offspring, I don't discourage genuine play. I feel there is enough struggling to meet society's standards and field day should be about play, not winning and losing. I'll try not to sprain my ankle jumping down from this soap box. Submitted and hopefully not deleted. Jody
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