Argentina Magic
3/20/2011 1:14:35 PM | Field Hockey
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Anything special you have is something that, at some point, you have to fight for. Argentina got a little magical last night, not least because Martina Loncarica's club Casi looks like Alladin's Palace. We won our final game of the Argentinean Series 3-0, finishing the week 3-1. The full moon was out and the goals starting coming. In the Golden Book tonight were Kelsey Millman, Liz McInerney and Leonie Geyer. I succeeded in offending the Irish and German contingent at the end of the game, while we sat in Alladin's palace eating pizza for the second time in four hours. I casually told both of them that their goals were the worst I have ever seen. Leo also reminded me that when I came over to give her a really enthusiastic high two after she scored I also told her that her goal was 'heinous'. To clarify, these goals were not exactly zipping into the goal like magic carpets. They were what we call at home, 'tricklers.' Regardless, Liz celebrated her goal by standing on the spot and raising her arms like a war hero. Biceps were also spotted, as has been a theme over the week. I would have been more impressed if she had retreated to the half way line doing the 'Liz dance', a culmination of thumbs up, and waving of one's arms as if they don't have bones in them.
In general the game was a bit McScrappy. Amy Kee was getting in a bit of a battle with an 80-pound Argentine, but I am pleased to report she prevailed on most occasions. I tackled one girl whose rather long pony tail whipped into my face. Images of a certain horse incident flashed before my eyes. At least the girl didn't have any hoofs. Ange 'The Genie' had four wishes for tonight's game (way to ask for one more than you are normally allowed), and we tried to make them come true. Our counter defense is evolving, the press is tightening, attack through the midfield is flowing (much like Ange's hair) and communication continued to grow. Last night was not our most polished performance but fighting for SU isn't always a pretty, even if the girls doing the fighting always are. Legs were tired because, counter to popular belief, we aren't actually Bionic Women. That's just Erika Wachter.
Rather strangely Alladin's palace didn't provide us with magic carpets to get to the game. So we took the next best thing. THE TRAIN. We left the hotel at 3:30 and got to the club at midnight. I'm kidding, but it took a wee bitty longer than we, perhaps, envisioned. Holly Cram and Jana Ebert were especially enjoying the trip. They were carrying one of our equipment bags, (all the essentials like hair straighteners, everyone's personal make up bag etc.) the whole way. Actually, it was just tape, band aids and TUMS for when people eat too much pizza before a game but the idea of the two willing and smiley helpers (Crammy and Janabanana) carrying that the whole way is just too funny. We managed to take up the whole train with our stick bags, and Erika proceeded to try and take pictures of a very tanned and, according to the majority, very attractive male about 10 feet away from us in the carriage. This was done by taking surreptitious photos of one another with him in the background. Everyone would then gather round giggling like children as we zoomed in to 'creep' on this poor guy. Leonie Geyer and Laura Hahnefelt made a different friend with a man who was sitting on the floor looking a bit like a homeless Buddha. Laura ended up sitting cross legged and potentially inappropriately close to him, before she proceeded to fall asleep. She looked 'so beautiful and clever' regardless, as we know she is gifted in both these areas. Rachel (pronounced R-a-k-e-l) Sayer, because we totes call her by the trashy Spanish version of her name, is no longer Lobby the Lobster. She has, somewhat reluctantly, relinquished her membership to the shell fish family, although she's working some pretty impressive color divisions on her skin. Not going to lie, I would probably still be fooled into eating her if she was on my dinner plate with garlic dipping sauce. To quickly move away from the topic of in-team cannibalism we arrived in San Isidro, Laura reluctantly left the Dalai Lama on the train, the girls didn't accost Mr. I'm So Tanned I Can Get Away With Wearing A Black Tank Top for his phone number, Holly and Jana skipped off the train with their body-bag smiling and not swearing, and a rainbow appeared in the sky (another lie). Seeing as the only way was up, after this multitude of disappointments, we knew our night was just beginning.
We ran the final leg of our Argentine Marathon, laid the last few bricks in the Argentinean Quarter of Rome, and then proceeded to dance the night away. By night I mean midnight. Any later, and the horse drawn carriage we ride in on the Buenos Aires highway might have turned into a pumpkin. Last night people were really coming out of their shells and throwing some moves down on the dance floor. Haley Bomboy is the absolute queen of hip gyration, although she doesn't need to come out her shell to do it because she does these kind of moves in the line for Dunkin Donuts on a daily basis. Double L, that well known German Dance Duo, started rotating their wrists, wobbling their heads and shrugging their shoulders in their awkwardly chill kind of way. Adrian Chambers' dancing demonstrated she will be back on the field in no time. Kelsey Millman did 'The Worm, Heather Susek brought some signature moves that I won't even attempt to describe and Amy Kee sat down at the table and battled sinus congestion. Holly Cram started sliding around on the tiles in her little Scottish plimsoles, Lynn pretended to join in but actually didn't, Steve was probably off searching for a cat, and Ange…. well I don't know if its printable but let just say she was joining in. We also did some dynamic stretching exercises, including high skips and 'the froggy' in honor of our absent trainer Bruce Williams who we left at home in Syracuse.
Syracuse, with its water based turf, personal laundry service and wind chill is not so different from sunny, humid, sand-turfed Argentina. Once you get a hockey stick in your hand it doesn't matter where you are in the world. You look left or right and you see your team mate, just like always, willing you and the team to win. You look at the sidelines and it's the same coaches believing in our team. Anything we really want is worth a fight, and we plan on running our marathon all the way to mid November. Per ardua ad astra. Google it.
