The Madness of MokcikNab
Motives, movements and melodrama in the life of a thirty something mum.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Boy Briefs
Let me tell you what's up with my son Adam, a long-standing character in this blog. Those who know him might be surprised to see how much he has grown in a year. He does not have a proclivity for rude songs anymore, or any interest in collecting frogs from drains after rain. He would fake his own death if you hugged or kissed him in public. He lost weight, lots of weight.
His most treasured possession is something that might be described as "mercurial vaporapor, with superior 4mm contact foam for best grip in wet and dry conditions featuring Grip3 technology". In other words, a pair of really good, really gummy, goalkeeper gloves.
Football is becoming an obsession. He keeps for his school and at the moment the team is ranked second in its division, coming from behind after beating the top eleven in a surprising win. Last week, they trashed their opponents 10-0. This morning is his last match. If the team wins, they might win the division. The league, featuring international and national plus schools in Jakarta, is serious business. Some of the coaches have premier league club experience. Or else, F@ndi Ahmad. Several weeks ago some of the players were sent down to Singapore for studio interviews with Nokia Football Crazy on ESPN. Updates on matches are reported on javakini, the unofficial expat rag.
You can keep track of Adam's school team, PSKD M@ndiri, on jakartafootball.com. Pak Sofi and Pak Bismarck, who coach and supervise the team, are ordinary teachers whose main aim is to let everyone play and feel worthy. The fact that they have progressed so well is a much welcomed bonus.
Adam trains once a week, plays indoor soccer on Mondays and practices goalkeeping at home almost daily, with Kak Ti being the designated striker. Saiffuddin and I spend Saturday mornings with cups of coffee and raisin muffins on the sidelines, going through the drama of losses and wins. (Also, I look at other mum's handbags because some of them tote such divine stuff while I contend with my RM65 canvas carry-all, bought at WH in 2002)
To my utter dissapointment Adam throws his support behind M@nchester United. He worships Van der Sar.
Soccer also led him to his first double date. (Don't gasp, you aunties. I can see Che Teh covering her mouth). Two weeks ago, on Easter weekend, Adam and his team-mate Melvin brought two other girls, also soccer players for the school, to watch Bean on Holiday at the notoriously overpriced EX. There were no chaperones, everyone paid for themselves, went home on time and apparently had a racuously enjoyable afternoon.
Adam vehemently denied it was a date. Needless to say, I ribbed him about N@nis, the tall defender he brought out, but the teasing was half-hearted and just for one day. After that, I let him be.
He's a big boy now, I'd have to admit -- with some pride and not a small amount of bittersweet sadness.
Let me tell you what's up with my son Adam, a long-standing character in this blog. Those who know him might be surprised to see how much he has grown in a year. He does not have a proclivity for rude songs anymore, or any interest in collecting frogs from drains after rain. He would fake his own death if you hugged or kissed him in public. He lost weight, lots of weight.
His most treasured possession is something that might be described as "mercurial vaporapor, with superior 4mm contact foam for best grip in wet and dry conditions featuring Grip3 technology". In other words, a pair of really good, really gummy, goalkeeper gloves.
Football is becoming an obsession. He keeps for his school and at the moment the team is ranked second in its division, coming from behind after beating the top eleven in a surprising win. Last week, they trashed their opponents 10-0. This morning is his last match. If the team wins, they might win the division. The league, featuring international and national plus schools in Jakarta, is serious business. Some of the coaches have premier league club experience. Or else, F@ndi Ahmad. Several weeks ago some of the players were sent down to Singapore for studio interviews with Nokia Football Crazy on ESPN. Updates on matches are reported on javakini, the unofficial expat rag.
You can keep track of Adam's school team, PSKD M@ndiri, on jakartafootball.com. Pak Sofi and Pak Bismarck, who coach and supervise the team, are ordinary teachers whose main aim is to let everyone play and feel worthy. The fact that they have progressed so well is a much welcomed bonus.
Adam trains once a week, plays indoor soccer on Mondays and practices goalkeeping at home almost daily, with Kak Ti being the designated striker. Saiffuddin and I spend Saturday mornings with cups of coffee and raisin muffins on the sidelines, going through the drama of losses and wins. (Also, I look at other mum's handbags because some of them tote such divine stuff while I contend with my RM65 canvas carry-all, bought at WH in 2002)
To my utter dissapointment Adam throws his support behind M@nchester United. He worships Van der Sar.
Soccer also led him to his first double date. (Don't gasp, you aunties. I can see Che Teh covering her mouth). Two weeks ago, on Easter weekend, Adam and his team-mate Melvin brought two other girls, also soccer players for the school, to watch Bean on Holiday at the notoriously overpriced EX. There were no chaperones, everyone paid for themselves, went home on time and apparently had a racuously enjoyable afternoon.
Adam vehemently denied it was a date. Needless to say, I ribbed him about N@nis, the tall defender he brought out, but the teasing was half-hearted and just for one day. After that, I let him be.
He's a big boy now, I'd have to admit -- with some pride and not a small amount of bittersweet sadness.
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