Dear Kid,

When little kids play futbol (or football or any sport for that matter) they pretend to be big stars of the game. They hit the winning home run, they save the impossible-to-save goal, they kick the winning PAT with 1 second left in the game.

They don’t practice being squashed at the bottom of a pile of larger than life humans who bench press large buildings as a warmup. Rarely do they argue about who gets to be the player who misses the last second basketball shot. Almost never do they want to be the one to run all the way down the field just to turn around and run back.

If you were to wave a magic wand for a group of adult-type spectators, they would all want to be in the same playing situation they practiced when they were little. They would want to be the one hitting the last second three point shot, leaping to save the incredible goal, diving to catch the game winning touch down, perfectly placing the ball in the top left of the goal.

Apparently, there is a company Down Under who has missed the concept entirely. According to Mashable, the telecommunications company Foxtel “claims to have created a shirt that uses wearable technology to let you experience some of the physical sensations that athletes on the field are having. Those include pressure (to mimic a thumping heart), impact, despair (“the sinking feeling of every costly mistake”), exhaustion and adrenalin.”

I do not need a shirt to experience exhaustion–I do that daily. Despair and adrenalin? Every time I burn dinner. Pressure? I’ve got enough stress as it is, thank you.

So I’m not sure I see the point of the shirt. But I’m sure there are fans who will ante up and enjoy every punch and fall.

Note to the developers: IMHO, it will not be necessary to add smell-o-vision to the shirt. We know the smell of stinky man-sweat and it will not go nicely with our beverages and snacks.

What will they think of next?

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Just in case you’ve been doing something crazy (like studying) and have missed the Important News of the Day, I am here to rectify the situation.

June 12^th. It’s a Thursday. It is also the start of the FIFA World Cup 2014. Mark your calendar.

Here’s the latest about what is (arguably) the Most Important Sporting Event in the World. Well, really it’s the third Most Important Sporting Event in The World (after 1. Any event a child of mine is participating in and 2. The Olympics which I love). It is, according to my friend the internet, the Most Watched Sporting Event in the World.

FIFA (which would be an excellent name for a puppy) announced the four “pots” for the World Cup draw. As far as I can tell (now might be a good time to mention that I am not a soccer expert) there are two “yark!” factors for 2014. One is that the weighting is weird (probably someone ate too much at Thanksgiving if weight is a problem) what with Iran (No. 49) having the same weight as the US (No. 13). The second is that things do not look good for the US. I determined this by reading an article (written by someone who knows far more about soccer than I do) which said quite clearly that things do not look good for the US. The author went on to explain why, but I got lost somewhere around the pre-draw so you’ll have to investigate yourself if you want additional info.

In other World Cup news, FIFA had to make A Statement that they are not racist and didn’t have any part in the whole mess. Allow me to explain.

In Brazil, especially the part of Brazil where the draw was being held, more than half the population identifies as either black or dark-skinned. Originally, the hosts for the television broadcast of the event (and, O Best Beloved, this is a Big Honkin’ Deal of An Event) were Afro-Brazilian. Probably. Certainly there are two dark-skinned Brazilian celebrities who were rumored to have been the hosts. Either that was a big spin of the rumor pinwheel or somewhere a mind was changed because two very light-skinned celebrities ended up with hosting duties. Lots o’ backlash. Threats of criminal prosecution and protests. Also probably a strongly worded Note to someone. FIFA went on record saying that FIFA is against discrimination and racism, and besides someone else made the decisions.

On a happier note, the New World Cup ball has been announced. It is called the Brazuca and somehow manages to look like a soccer ball while looking nothing like a soccer ball. High five to the designers. Everybody knows that soccer balls are black and white—this one has color on white. Everyone knows soccer balls are formed from 32 pieces of smooth leather in the shape of hexagons and pentagons. The Brazuca is made up of 6 identical interlocking round-tipped Xs (or something like that. Someone call Escher). I don’t know what material they use to make the ball but it has a “micro-texture.”

Anyway, the ball is pretty darn cool and has been tested within an inch of its spheroid life. Also, it turns out that the reason soccer balls were black and white was so that viewers watching on their black and white TVs in 1970 could clearly see the ball. And here I thought it had to do with the Religion of Soccer. Learn something new every day.

We hope you have enjoyed this break. We now return you to your previously scheduled study session.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

It’s Friday, and for the first time in many weeks we will not be heading to a High School football game tonight. It feels a little weird. I’m sure the weather forecasters are pleased that I have no need to fuss about the accuracy (or lack thereof).

Sports are not the only thing in life. They may not even be the most important thing in life (calm down, I said “may”). But big changes in sports seasons often take me by surprise. I get taken out of my short-term habit of going to The Game, watching football on the weekend while curled up on the couch, half watching a hockey game before bed while I get a little bit more work done. Other people seem to flow seamlessly from one season to the next and you’d think I would have adjusted to the change by now. I haven’t. I’m always a little disappointed that when I want to watch a football game there isn’t one on. (Why people don’t consult me on the schedules is still a mystery.) Perhaps it’s because I don’t like all sports equally (but that’s a topic for another day). Fortunately, we haven’t hit the end of the televised football season yet, so I don’t have to go cold turkey.

I know you’re headed to the basketball game tomorrow (see how confusing the change of sports season is?) Maybe part of the problem is that the seasons don’t change so much as overlap. I shall have to think about this some more. Hope you and Dad enjoy the game and that OUr Team wins.

Speaking of soccer (just because I wasn’t) this kid is amazing. Just when you think it’s gone on a little too long and you’ve had enough, keep watching. And yet, he probably can’t pass a Chem Exam.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

At today’s soccer game, the need to invent invisible referees once again became apparent. Somehow I always (yes, always) manage to sit at the exact spot where the line judge will choose to plant his or her feet. Yesterday one of the line judges was about the diameter of a pencil, but more typically I sit behind someone who has a significant behind to sit behind.

I was talking (shocker, I know) to a dad from the other team about the need for this invention. First he laughed and said, “You have too much time on your hands, don’t you?” Being a polite sort of person, I did not spit in surprise at the very notion of too much time. I was about to respond with something witty, when he said, “You know, we really do have the technology to make that happen.”

HUH???

Invisible people?

I was so stunned I said nothing. (Make a note. It does happen occasionally.)

He went on to explain that in his opinion there were two options. One: do away with sideline judges by using chips in the ball and cameras from different angles and such (eh) or Two: use some super cool technology to more or less make the line judge invisible. I opted for Box Number 2 rather than whatever was behind the curtain.

He went on to explain that there is a fair amount of scientific research aimed at rendering things invisible. Some things are invisible only to microwaves (not sure why you’d want to be visible to the human eye but invisible to microwaves, but I’m sure there is a good reason). And there is technology that works as long as you’re small enough to live in a Petri dish (I have yet to meet a referee, no matter how fit, that would live happily in a Petri dish).

There is also technology that is basically a tee-shirt where the front acts like a camera and the back acts like a projection screen so someone behind the tee-shirt sees whatever the front of the tee-shirt sees. Voila! Floating head, invisible torso, legs running around trying to catch up. Useful and hilarious.

I went to the website How Stuff Works which has fab-o info on real life invisibility cloaks. Pages of good stuff. Which I plan to go back and read sometime when I’m not quite so tired. Like 2035. The point is, not only is there real science about this, there are real world applications that make pursuing the science a pretty nifty idea. Well, not for me, since I’m pretty sure I’d set the research back a decade or so. But for someone who has a clue about this sort of thing.

Real world applications they talk about including making the bottom of a cockpit clear so pilots can see the ground when they are landing. And making a surgeons hands invisible so they can see everything when they are operating (I think that would take some getting used to).

Before you ask, I double checked and there was no mention anywhere of using this technology to make referees invisible. Sometimes science is very short-sighted if you ask me. I’m sure they will think of it—it will just take a little longer.

Now all we have to do is figure out the science of getting folding chairs to make coffee at the game and I’ll be all set.

Get your highly visible self to bed at a reasonable hour, kiddo.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

At soccer practice. Actually, Pi is practicing and I am making sure my chair does not suddenly defy gravity and fly away.

The girls are working on a new drill where they are learning to protect the ball, do some nifty footwork, spin, and take the ball to the net. I can only sort of hear the coach and a minute ago he said, “it’s like a ballet dancer” but it sounded for all the world like he said “it’s like a battle dancer” which perhaps is a better term for these very competitive soccer players.

I think I have a mosquito bite on my skull. Why on earth would a mosquito want to dig through all this hair to have lunch?

Over the years, we’ve gotten used to the idea that lots of parents thought we were spot on when we named you. Inevitably, there is a small regiment of people who share your name, and nicknames became commonplace. Pi, on the other hand, has never really had to share the name-light. Until now. There are three of them with the same name on this soccer team, and for the first time, she is having to filter out who the coach means. This makes the spectator sport of watching practice much more interesting as pony-tails whip around in unison.

Pretty sure this horde of mosquitos is from the catering department and I am being sniffed as a possible lunch buffet.

I love watching you guys in whatever activities you’re involved with, but watching this particular drill is about as interesting as watching trees grow. Which I am also doing.

Note to self: insect repellent is now mandatory for watching evening soccer practice.

Girls finished a water break and are heading back on to the field. Two of them attempted cartwheels—about the level of the average four-year-old who knows what a cartwheel is supposed to look like but has never been coached.  I was wondering if Pi was going to demonstrate her tumbling prowess. To her credit, she did not. Not sure if she held back because she’s got a lot of class or because this is soccer or  because her shoulder is bothering her—and it doesn’t really matter. She did the right thing.

A duck is flying overhead. It looks lonely and hungry. If I knew how to speak duck I’d invite it down to explain what-is-what to the mosquitos.

There appears to be an interesting correlation between how skillfully the girls play and how closely the coach is watching. Hmmm…

One dead mosquito. On the whole, I am not an advocate of violence, but in this particular case, I feel completely in the right.

Don’t forget sunscreen (and perhaps bug spray).

Love, Mom