Our team is what? DYNAMITE!


This is how it feels to win the cup final.


And also this.


This is how it feels to be brought along on a Saturday morning to cheer for your sister.


And also this.


This is how it feels before the medal ceremony following a hard-fought 1-0 game.


This is how it feels to coach your daughter and get to give her a trophy (and a hug).


“Our team is WHAT? DYNAMITE! Our team is WHAT? DYNAMITE! Our team is tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick BOOM! DYNAMITE!

“Their team is WHAT? Down the drain. Their is WHAT? Down the drain. Their team is glug-glug-glug-glug-glug down the drain.”

Hm. I hadn’t heard that second verse till just now when I asked Fooey to tell me their team cheer, so that I could record it here for posterity. Any comments, Coach Kevin? (In fact, for the record, the whole team was very courteous and sweetly pleased in victory, and they did say that part of the cheer really quietly.)


“Now I have two trophies!”
“You do?”
“The other one is for Highland Dance!”

[The other one is really more of a plaque. And I am a terrible mother. I have a strange haunted feeling that I chucked said plaque in a fit of purging several months ago. Oh, how I hope that I am wrong, now that I know its value.]


My Fooey: brave defender, who played like she was twice her size.

Art to the rescue
The play's the thing

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