On the fringe

The club president calls an emergency meeting at the high school tonight. He’s all in a tizzy about the women’s World Cup, wants to discuss how we can recruit more players on the back of it.

‘Every girl in America wants to be Hope Solo or Abby Wambach this week,’ he says. ‘We’ll never have a better chance to grow the club. I want ideas on how the club can capitalize on the renewed interest in the sport.’

The ideas that come from the floor are so boring and predictable. One guy wants pink fliers delivered to every mailbox in town, another talks about a full page ad in the local paper. Usual stuff we’ve tried a hundred times before. I listen for a while and then decide to liven things up.

‘How about free Hope Solo eyeliner for girls willing to try out in goal?' I shout. That gets a good response, some healthy laughter from everybody, apart from the club president. He’s rather po-faced especially when it leads to a discussion about whether Solo has her own brand of eyeliner yet.

Buoyed by the reaction to that interruption, I go again.

‘Why don’t we offer a stick-on Abby Wambach fringe to every newcomer who manages to head the ball on their first night?’

Surprisingly, this is met by groans of disapproval and a further admonishment from the club president.

‘You are not being helpful,’ he says to me in the tone of a principal lecturing an errant student. ‘Can you come up with something helpful?’

I'm so annoyed by his attitude I decide to give him both barrels.

‘No, I won’t come up with something helpful because I don’t want these arriviste parents for whom the game is the flavor of the month, the fad of the summer, getting involved in soccer. These are the same fickle moms and dads who drag their long-suffering sons and daughters to the swimming pools and the gymnastic clubs after every Olympics. They’ll be forcing the kids to do something else next summer, fencing most probably. I’ve enough to do putting together a winning team (of course I emphasize the word winning) without wasting my time here.’

I walk out, happy that I’ve given everybody in the club food for thought.