Reincarnation- From Soccer Mom to Judo Mom

Ah, we have had a time today, yes indeed we have...

The gentlemen informed me that they would be fighting in their first Judo tournament this weekend and, as I feared for their lives at the hands of experienced, killer ruffians, I knew there was no way I would stay away from this event.

I was woefully unprepared.

As a soccer mom with years of practice under my belt, I felt equal to the task- even though I never quite fit in the soccer mom scene. I was a bit too unconventional.

Imagine my surprise when we showed up in Durham and found there are Judo Moms. How do I know, you ask? THEY had T-shirts that said "Judo Mom." On the back, like on the back of rock band concert shirts, there were listings of tournaments attended. A lot of the shirts had some far eastern quotation from the Art of War, I believe.

There were Harley Helmets and military buzz cuts, hard asses and toddlers, hair in colors of the rainbow, chains, tattoos, and a serious lack of Clorox and deodorant in some quarters.

(This I believe was either the warm up exercise or the Hokey Pokey)

However...Judo people seemed on the whole, a lot friendlier. They got trounced and got up smiling and shaking hands. They introduced themselves to the boys...(Heck, the hottie men in the Unnamed Ones' Club even walked up, introduced themselves and spoke! Men, speaking, with social skills, at a sporting event! Go fig!)

There was only one coach who acted like the stereotypical "Bad Parent," yelling so hard at one kid, it made him cry.

I was certain that despite their niceness, they were going to kick Unnamed boy ass.
Nope. They came home with a First Place and Second Place trophy in their respective divisions.

And just like soccer...I couldn't tell you what happened, or what it meant, or what they did to earn those trophies other than beat their opponent.

What touched me most, however, was watching the Unnamed One bonding experience.

I forget sometimes that while they may kill each other at home, on outside turf they are a supportive team. The Eldest crouched at the edge of the mat throughout his brother's matches, never yelling out- but communicating with non-verbal signals.

He actually had to tell the Youngest he'd won his first match because the Youngest said, "It happened so fast I literally have only three memories of it- walking out into the lights, going in for the throw and then walking away! Until he told me what happened with that weird wave thing he was doing, I didn't know!"

The Eldest Unnamed One's Beloved filmed every second of their matches. It came to approximately six minutes worth of film. Beloved and I estimated we sat on hard wooden bleachers for one hour per minute of boy action.

For all but about 10 minutes of that time, we were bored witless.

But we also decided it was worth it. We give it a 78- good beat(ings), easy to dance to (if you count bleacher wiggling as dancing) and we'd do it again.

1 comment:

Teena said...

Great action shots!

I picked up Gord one afternoon after his fencing class. I walked in with another woman and she pointed out her 16-year-old son. She asked me which was my son. Ha! I pointed to my 52-year-old husband.

Gord wants me to take pix of him at one of his fencing tournaments. Though I'm supportive, I think it would be boring! So far, I've managed to dodge having to go.