Goalkeeping and other stories

Father's Day.

Like so many with children but without fathers, this is a bitter-sweet day. The happiness is palpable; the sadness never far away.

But this was a very pleasant day. Mrs. Ottawacker's new boss - and let me say Mrs. Ottawacker does not deserve to work for a boss who has an beer named after her - paid for a surprise take-out lunch from a local restaurant. Holy crap, I needed that. The Chinese food I have been eating here has essentially turned my stomach. It is all sweet and sickly - whereas my tastes are for the spicy and earthy. (Explanation. My aunt is Liverpool Chinese and currently resides in Vancouver, where I have had the best food I have ever had. Seriously, of the best 10 meals in my life, 3 have been in Vancouver's Chinatown.) The lunch, while not in the Top 10, was at least a reminder that you don't need to settle for the local take-out's shite!

Evening, post-work, for that is how I spent much of today, allowed me to take Ottawacker Jr. to his goalkeeping sessions. He was in his element. He is a fine keeper for his age - much better than I was. And while he maybe lacks the "killer instinct" (I still recall the Primary School match against Alderwood when I took out four opposition players on a breakaway, saved the shot AND was awarded a free kick), he's athletic and has exceptional reactions...

Ah. The joys of Father's Day.