However, lacrosse is a sport that is so totally alien to me that after two months of practice and, finally, two games, I'm still trying to figure out the rules. Here's what I've figured out so far. The object of the game is to get a baseball-size, hard, white, rubber ball into the opposite team's goal net. It's like field hockey there, except that ball can really bounce right over the net instead of into it if they throw it at the ground in front of the net hard enough! The players use sticks with baseball mitt-size nets attached to the upper end to catch and pass the ball down the field, while other players also use those same sticks to beat the snot out of the guy who has the ball in his net and is running with it. There are, of course, rules about how you may beat the snot out of each other, and the refs are pretty quick with the whistle when they see an infraction of those rules, but I'm still having a hard time figuring out the difference between, say, checking and unnecessary roughness. Even with my hockey knowledge.
Still, they all look like they're having a great time running up and down the field playing keep away with the ball while trying to launch that same ball at the goal and avoid being whacked by other players.
I can see how this game was likely invented by Native Americans. I can also see how this sport might well have been used to toughen up young braves in preparation for battle or as a method for settling inter-tribal disputes. I can't see how they would have played it without protective pads on their arms, shoulders, and heads though. Ouch.
In the beginning of the season, when it was all so new to TBear and me, I tried to help him get used to using his lacrosse stick by playing catch with him. I have to tell you, the boy's got a lot more talent at it than I do. (The coaching help he got from his dad didn't hurt either. Whit's played lacrosse, but the osmosis isn't working on me.) TBear uses a lacrosse stick. I use a softball mitt to catch, and the dog's chuck-it to throw the ball back to him. (Ah, yeah...old shoulder injury that had to do with Patrick and a horsefly. Don't ask.) I can't catch or throw with the lacrosse stick. In fact, trying to learn to use a lacrosse stick was a little like trying to learn the violin for me. We started out on fairly equal footing, TBear and I, but TBear soon proved (with both the violin and lacrosse) that you just can't teach an old dog new tricks. (He blew the doors off of me before we even got through Book One, and I just threw in the towel early with the lacrosse stick. I'm already proficient with a softball mitt and a chuck-it. :)
Whit took a picture of the two of us practicing with the stick and ball. If you promise not to tell me how hard you're laughing, I'll share the pictures. You have to give me credit for creativity.
Catch.....
...and release. It works slick.
By the way, TBear's team won their first game and tied their second game tonight. TBear played very well. I keep wondering, though, if this is supposed to be a spring sport, why am I always so much colder at these games than his hockey games?! Even with the fleece blanket wrapped around me!?
No comments:
Post a Comment