PUSSIES

I've been worried about Willow my pussycat I left back in New Zealand. I've been hoping that she is in good health and that the tenants are looking after her.

I was relieved to hear from the tenants yesterday that Willow is thriving and is going about her business as usual which invariably means following the sun around the house and, uncannily, appearing in the kitchen at 5pm to wait for her dinner.

There are pussies here in Toronto too.
We live next to a High School/college which has a good sports field.

When the High School/college isn't using it for soccer, hockey and football the community uses it for casual sports and recreation.

I've been watching the college kids practising and playing some intercollege football games. What a laugh. The 'jocks' (16 to 18 y.o. guys)swagger around in their football gear trying to impress the girls. They are kitted out in sprigs, helmets and those ridiculous shoulder pads which make them look like Jack Reacher albeit with skinny legs.

When it comes to running they invariably fall over at the first touch of a tackle. Remember that this is American football where the runner with the ball has several teammates running ahead blocking tackles from the opposition. It should be easy. They have two teams each side. Really. An attacking team and a defensive team (keeps everyone employed i suppose). When the game shifts in direction they have time out and change all the players (it's painful to watch as we went to a major league one when we first arrived and we buggered off after a couple of hours - life's too short to hang around while the umpires prance about with flags and keep stopping the game. A normal play period is about 10 seconds!

Anyway, back to the college stuff. Last week when the college was playing the visiting team brought their own cheerleaders. Picture about twenty 15 to 17y.o girls (yes with skinny legs) in short skirts going through the pom pom ritual. It looks ludicrous.

A hero would be announced if he evaded tackles and ran for about 10 yards before the game stopped and they all changed teams.

It made me think of playing rugby in the 7th form (I played soccer up to then). Our coach, Cosgrave I think his name was, was a mild-mannered priest by day but absolutely fierce on the field. He would drive us on to all forms of mayhem and slaughter " nail him" he'd say, "take his legs out. Crush him". We did and were the only unbeaten school team that year at St Patricks College.

These American football types are pussies compared to the average NZ rugby team.