So this past weekend we're at the Ontario Lacrosse provincials in Whitby for number one son (yes, I know it's Wednesday already...so the summer goes). It's a big deal in the Ontario lacrosse world.
We wade through crowds and cheer ourselves hoarse. We smell smells that have no place outside a locker room but, well, that's what you get when it's hot and kids in heavy protective gear, which has to be used over and over again, run around and run around and run around more in a confined space.
At each arena we thread our way through the parking lot to the door. I'm seeing all sorts of stickers on cars that flash support for this home team or that home team. There are numerous pictures of lacrosse sticks: singly, two of them crossed, oriented horizontally and oriented vertically. I read slogans urging me to hug a ref. I am informed that it takes balls to play lacrosse.
When we pull up at, like, the fourth different arena of the weekend, the car beside me is sporting this sticker:
No kidding. We had a good laugh.
Driving around with that on your bumper? I think that takes balls.
[And the home team? Made it all the way to the semi finals but was stopped there. Not bad! Hawks rock!]