Soccer. Sock Her.

Jostling for position in Women's Soccer can lead to uncomfortable contact - an elbow to the boob, a kick to the crotch (which my kid calls a C.P. -you figure it out!), a hand on the butt, shirt tugging, and even the occasional pantsing leaving the shorts down around the ankles. Better hope you're wearing the nice underwear with no holes in them on days like those! All of these things, if the referee is watching closely enough, could net out a yellow card penalty.  

Another area of physical contact is during a full-on breakaway when defenders run shoulder to shoulder with strikers. They nudge and bump roller derby style trying to snake a foot in to take the ball. Obvious tripping and hands-on pushing will, again, catch the referee's eye if carried to the extreme and someone's going to be picking splinters out of her butt from sitting the bench.

I am  not a whiny soccer mom who screeches from the sidelines at refs who prefer to "play on" when the rough stuff turns up on the field.  Get up. Get on with it. Unless you are bleeding or broke something.  It's the nature of the beast. 

But when does this contact become assault? 

Watching Women's College Soccer has become habit for Tori and me lately because she is playing Varsity Soccer as a freshman at Boone High School.  She is good at the game.  Apparently college scouts begin to observe potential players in their freshman year of high school and begin the four year long odyssey of recruiting.  They ain't messin' around! 

Although she wants to be the next Anna Wintour and edit Vogue, she looked at me all solemn one night after a lengthy discussion of why sports scholarships are gifts from God, and said "I want to keep my options open, so ok."  Score a scholarship and Tori will, when all is said and done, play college soccer.

Then I see this -



Tori or any of her team mates are tough enough to take the normal, even rough play shots that are part of the game. Soccer is a contact sport.  If you don't like playing a contact sport, swim or play tennis.  But don't come crying to coach when you get a little manhandled every once in a while.

However, this kind of assault and battery deserves a special look.  Why wasn't this woman escorted off the field in handcuffs by local police?  How was she allowed to continue playing after the first blatant assault she doled out?  The disturbing expression on her face as she delivered the pain and mayhem was especially horrifying.  Had my daughter been the target of Ms. Lambert's violent and extremely dangerous attentions to the degree seen in that game, after controlling with every ounce of my being the overwhelming urge to bitch slap the thug skank myself, our next field of battle would be in court.