THE (LACROSSE) LEGEND IS TRUE!

No one sits with us at lacrosse games, and this may be one of life's biggest mysteries.

My eldest and I go to a local high school lacrosse game on Saturday night.  We don't really know why we do it as we have no dog in the fight.  One might think that we could behave ourselves for one evening at a game that means absolutely nothing to us.

One might be wrong.

We pretty much wait until the second half of the game.  Pretty much.  Okay, maybe not so much, but we try.  Those who know us will completely acknowledge that we have more than just a passing, rabid interest in lacrosse, so attending a game at the high school where all three of my children competed in sports provides us some excuse for being there.

It doesn't take long to fall into our old bad habits, and we begin berating the referee for some minor infraction.  But it gets worse.  As the idiot's reffing deteriorates, so does our resolve, until ... finally ...

"Hey, which number is your son?"

The security guy in the raincoat looks up.  The coaches look up.  And the team on the field starts cracking up.

(Olmec says the legend is true!)

It's not so much that we're funny.  Oh, we think we are hilarious, so what others think means very little to us and will not prevent us from giggling.  What's so damn funny is that we are so predictable.  So damn predictable.  This realization sends my son to his feet.

"Yes," he yells, "We really do exist!  The legend is true!"

And now you, too, know why no one sits with us at lacrosse games, though I've yet to figure out why.  After all, we paid good money to get in to the game; might as well have a good time while we're here.