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Tuesday Night musings…

I came home last night from my usual Tuesday at the Newman Center to find the grounds awash in activity. The field was an illuminated green from the overhead lights. Riots of kids in colorful uniforms dashed from end to end and side to side, in a ballet of motion on the newly turfed field. Pockets of conversation from adults, playful banter from athletes warming up or warming down from the contests, and the delighted screams of the very small playing on the playground met the ear with a wonderful cacophony of noisy exu-berance. A light blue haze from brats and burgers wafted into the evening sky, tickling the nose with a delectable invitation to fill the belly.

The evening sky held on to the last glimmers of its September pale blue hue, while the very earth radiated a quiet warmth from the day’s sun. A cool but gentle breeze playfully tickled exposed arms and legs, invit-ing thoughts of the neglected sweater or jacket, or pullover sweats considered, but not brought because it is still ‘too early’ to break out the fall apparel. Minivans and cars pause to drop off athletes by the garage overhang. Parents herd reluctant siblings and bag chairs across the parking lot to find the best place to observe the festivities. Men’s club members con-verse playfully over BBQ grills while the smell of fresh popcorn floats from the concession stand. Small chil-dren, with eyes bigger than their stomachs, delight in their favorite flavor of ring pops, exulting in the sugar rush of youth.

Kids check signals with parents before heading to play “wall ball” against the side of the gymnasium building. Proud grandparents tousle the hair of favorite grand-kids over games well played and effort well given. Ny-lon sacks with a plethora of balls and cones dot the sidelines, waiting for coaches to carry them to waiting trunks or sideline readiness when the previous con-test draws to a close. The scree of referee whistles sound twice to mark the half and three times to mark the end of the contest.

Loudspeakers echo off adjacent buildings marking the mad dash to the center of the field, like Olympic ath-letes entering their stage of triumph, ready to give the contest their best. A wave to the fans, a flowing to positions, a few nervous jumps; referees checking keeper-readiness, and “Tweeeet!”, the next game is underway.

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