Wife happens to be the only person home when the UPS man delivers my awesome new Nike Mercurial Superfly Vapors. Very bad luck. I try to lie and tell her the package is work-related but she’s too smart to fall for that. My efforts at hiding the invoice fail too when she snatches it from me the moment I open the box.
‘Two hundred and fifty dollars!’ she screams. ‘You have got to be kidding me.’
Some battles you just can’t win so I quickly lace up the cleats and run out into the backyard in the middle of the argument. I figure if I get them muddy and dirty she won’t be able to make me send them back. They feel fantastic. So light. Such a perfect fit. Of course the moment is ruined somewhat by the fact my first excited touches of the ball come sound-tracked by wife braying her displeasure through the kitchen window.
‘It’s an investment,’ I shout back while flicking the ball from foot to foot.
‘An investment in what?’ she hollers.
‘An investment in what?’ she hollers.
‘In my coaching career.’
‘You don’t get paid for this.’
‘You don’t think word will get out about me and high schools and colleges will be begging me to take over their programs.’
‘No I don’t and I’m going out now. I’m going out shopping. Out to blow the grocery budget for the whole week.’
‘Enjoy yourself honey,’ I say, throwing in the honey at the end for added irritation. Then I volley the ball into the air and think to myself, man, these cleats are so worth all this trouble.
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