It was with some trepidation that we went to watch Son#4's hockey game. Each and every time that DH and I have gone to watch, his team has lost. It's become something of a standing joke. But we had to take Son#4 back to Uni today and it seemed a good opportunity to watch his game. After all, it's not as if we get the opportunity often these days.
It was cold. Bitterly cold. And it started to rain.
And they lost. Not dismally, I'm glad to say, but they still lost.
I think next time we won't tell him we're coming and see if his team still loses. If it does we can only conclude that in some inexplicable way we have a negative effect on the team's ability to play - and win.
I can't begin to calculate how many games of hockey (and baseball and basketball and soccer) we have watched over the years. The days when we watched three games one after the other in one sitting are long gone (and I'm certainly not complaining about that) so nowadays getting to watch just one game now and again is a real privilege.
It would be even better if they won. And if we got to see Son#4 score some goals (which is something else that doesn't seem to happen that often when we watch - see, I said we were a bad influence).
Perhaps the next generation won't be hindered by the same negative influences when it's their term to play and we'll get to cheer - not loudly, because that's not who we are, but quietly and proudly - from the sidelines once again.