Friday, 15 July 2016

Sports Day

I don't know if it's the humid July air (or torrential downpours), excitement (or fear) of the looming six week holidays or that instinctive desire from our ancestors to win a three legged race. Whatever the reason, Sports Day can be intense. 



I was pregnant at the time of Bee's first ever Pre-school Sports Day last year.  I was not prepared. 

I was not prepared for the mother-daughter race that turned into carnage as one mum almost dragged her daughter along the course to be first.  (Let's just say she must have really, really wanted that medal from the pound shop). 

There appears to be a parental shift when it comes to Sports Day.  We are all smiles at drop off and pick ups at the pre-school gates.  But the words race and three legged appear to cause competitiveness and the desire to win like no other. 

And I am not immune to it. 

I like to consider myself a pretty relaxed mama the majority of the time. But the intensity of the Day of Sports did not pass me by. Just because I was pregnant and not racing did not mean I was silent on the sidelines. Oh no. My inner fish wife voice was released, and as my daughter ran her race, I found myself chanting my daughter's name like she was Mo Farrah on the home straight in London 2012. 

Sports Day was not without its drama too.  Bee actually won her little egg and spoon race, but the winners medal was wrongly given to another little girl in the next lane.  I should mention this isn't just bad sportsmanship, we actually have video evidence as my husband filmed it on his phone of Bee being first.  It's the incident we now refer to as egg and spoon gate.  

No-one prepares you for Sports Day as a parent.  No-one sits you down before you leave the hospital with your baby and tells you about what's going to go down.  There needs to be a section for Sports Day at the back of the Birth to Five book with a quick reference tool on how to avoid being trampled on in the parent race, being a graceful loser and how to politely refute the judges decision. 

What are you meant to do in these situations? Go and ask the medal be removed from the other three year old? Call for an independent adjudicator and replay? Hook your I-phone up to the class power point so everyone can see the finish? 

That's right.  We hooked up the phone to the power point. Only joking (they didn't have the right wires). Instead, we smiled graciously and whispered to Bee she'd won, but there may have been a 'judging error'. Then we went out for cake and a babychino, because, quite frankly I'd used up all of my energy screaming cheering, and Bee did a fab job, pound shop medal or no pound shop medal.  

This year, I'm more prepared for amateur judging and rowdy mamas.  But I'll definitely be cheering from the sidelines, and I'd say there is a high possibility of a fish wife scream.  I just can't help it.   

We all know its the taking part that counts, but in my head I really can't help myself from humming the Eye of the Tiger and imagining a Rocky montage of a four year old with a plastic egg and spoon.  

Happy Sports Day people, and stay safe out there...  


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