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Happy Cinco de Mayo! Ole!

I would take this time to say something really cool in Spanish, but I all I remember from my two years of high school Spanish classes are "Me llamo Paolo" and "Arroz con pollo."

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On Friday night I went down to University Place for Sergio's "Senior Night" soccer game -- the last regular home game before the playoffs.

I probably should have been up in the stands with Mom, Nina and David, but I couldn't pass the opportunity to sit on the sidelines with the Curtis HS team to take photos (Sergio pictured above) and critique the game with Dad.

I also took time to harass players ineligible to play because of poor grades. I'm paraphrasing, but I told one player, who said he's had as low as a .08 GPA, something along the lines of...

"How stupid are you? It's actually tougher to fail public high school classes then pass them, don't you think? You must try really hard. If you really are that dumb, they have special classes for you and you absolutely can't fail those because you just have to demonstrate fundamental motor skills. How long did it take you to potty train? That might be a Litmus test to consider for where you're at now."

Beyond the heckling, I spent the majority of the time reacting to the game, jumping up and down from my seat like a Catholic at Sunday mass. The sideline ignited when Sergio received a yellow card after fouling an opponent (Though he did deserve it, the cheap hack).

I was nostalgic about my own high school soccer career under the big lights and reminisced about my last games at Stadium HS. You don't realize it at the time, but these are the games you remember the rest of your life. I hope they're as enjoyable and memorable for Sergio.

I know high school is tough for a lot of people, but I relished it. So many opportunities, successes and mistakes are crunched into those four years. It's a great precursor of the same, magnified dynamics of college.

I was reminded why I high school is so unique at half time. The cheerleaders turned to the field, each of them holding a letter.

B-R-A-N-D-O-N, P-R-O-M-?

A girl out of uniform was holding the question mark, clearly the one asking Brandon, who was walking off the field. He steered toward her upon seeing the message and gave her a quick hug for confirmation and ran to catch up with the team behind the bleachers.

It was like watching a Jim and Pam moment in "The Office"; it tugged the heartstrings. Those are the moments you have to love about high school, and Friday night I did, again, love high school.

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Update on the Ballard Tree-Cutting Scandal...

I called the City of Seattle and was put in contact with some hippies in the department that handles city tree-cutting. I gave them the address of the alleged crime and they told me that the trees were on private property, but, because of their visibility, were also considered "city assets" and permits are required to cut down said assets.

The property owners did obtain permits for cutting down the trees, so their actions were legal. The owners also informed the city that they intend to plant new trees in the now vacant plots.

Mischief managed.