Yes, a Garmin can be wrong

On Halloween, the coaches, b-ball girls, wives, and our children all jiffed up on sugar, loaded into two 15 passenger vans (yes, we ride in style), and headed for Cleveland. We arrived, sort of, around 2 a.m. We were close , I did see the sign for Cleveland, but the Garmin actually took us to some subdivision on a dead end road. Um...I KNOW this isn't the hotel. Love technology! I actually was tempted to knock on the closest door and announce, we're here! But decided against it despite my tired bloodshot eyes. That and not wanting to get a gun pulled on the team because some homeowner didn't like the idea of house guest in the middle of the night.

We finally arrive, after re-calibrating the stupid GPS system and our heads hit the pillow at 2:30 a.m. 8:OO arrived WAAAYYY too early, especially when my sleep was disrupted by having our lovely daughter's feet jabbed under my rib part of the night. I know...don't let your kids sleep with you, but at 2:30 in the morning after being in a van for four hours with a bunch of teenage girls and children geeked up on sugar, logic goes out the window.

Finally we get to the game. I was a little nervous (as usual) and excited because after getting our butts waxed in last weeks scrimmage with a couple local colleges, the coaches dreamed up an idea for "team motivation." They decided to find stuff that would piss the girls off and give it to them right before the game. We gave one girl a cheerleading uniform because she's, let's just say, not a fan. We dug up articles from teams they hated in the past. Now I know this is probably a little unorthodox, but damned if it didn't work. We came out to a 12-0 lead and never looked back. It also helped that coach's parents came down and created their own form of student section. DEEEFENSE....DEEEEEFENSE... no lie they were yelling it. They would do a chant for the girls as they got in the game. At one point, they even tried to start the wave. I could not make this up, pinkie swear! I kept stats, like always. It keeps me from yelling and ranting. Never a good look for a coach's wife, at least not this one. I still yell, just not as much as I used to. I try not to yell at the refs anymore, I save that for the "cheering" section.

We've got another game tomorrow...fingers crossed and all other superstitions that apply...lets bring home another win. And if my Sweet Bean, Claire, gets her way, a trophy.