Hockey is frigid, football is cold, soccer is warm and baseball is hot, right?
I checked the weather and sports sections of “the book of life experience” and that’s what it says.
But here we are in the middle of January, game-time temperature tonight is near freezing, but its just past mid-point in the Phoenix public high school soccer season? Hey, ya’ll, it’s frickin’ cold out here!
That’s not right!
But I was prepared. My grandbaby is out there in her senior year as Captain of the team so I’m prepared. I’m wearing the insulated pants I bought two years ago which I can no longer buckle — too much rich food — a flannel shirt with another thick shirt beneath, and my good “Chicago in February” top coat with scarf, hat and gloves. And two pair of socks, wool over cotton, with leather boots.
I was ready.
Pity my granddaughter and the other players. They’re in short pants, thin and not very long-sleeve shirts and single-layer socks. At least they’re wearing gloves.
Post Script: They won 5-0, one of which belongs to #2 in the red sleeves. That’s my grandbaby!