Mud football

After a week of rain almost everyday, the weekly Saturday morning football match was destined to be an interesting one. Or should I say soccer -- we have gotten so used to calling it football after playing with so many Europeans. At the beginning of the game, there was a small patch of mud in the middle of the field. But before long, it grew.

People fell. And slid all over. And that little patch of mud became bigger.

That would be my husband on the ground.

Yes, there he is again. Slide tackles became common but with the potential for a spill.

And yet the game forged on.

But as the spot of mud grew and turned into a mud pond, some of the boys (our son included) were drawn away from the game by the allure of wallowing in the mud.

Starting with the little boys.

Even the bigger boys had to have a turn in the mud.

And still, even amongst wallowing boys, the game continued on.

Even penalties were carried out in the mud. It is tradition that if you have a handball, the required penalty is push ups. Today's were done in the mud.

Midway through the game, my boy was still fairly clean.

But the mud was too difficult to resist!

End of the game shot.