September 8, 2012

“Got your drink bottle? Cut your nails?”

Pile in the car, park miles away, do your warm up running to the courts.

Find a space huddling next to other parents. Compare notes about progress of sore throats or coughs. Inhale the smell of the organised parents who got there early enough to get coffee. Look at their well-groomed hair and make-up and marvel, while hiding your own unbrushed mop under your raincoat hood.

Babies in back packs. Pyjamas peeking out of pants. Eyeing the heavy grey clouds over the hills.

Hooter blows.

“GetintospaceGreen.” “Infrontofyourpartners.” Whistle blows. “ohhhh”

“ComeonGreeeeen” clapping.

Quick drink at half-time, bibs change. Whistle

Kids fall over, knees skinned, they tough it out with tears in their eyes.



And one for the Ref.


Jane Cunningham is a storyteller, mother, slattern and artist. She lovingly retells your story at, has an artgallery/blog/learningsite at and is here on facebook and @faerian on twitter

2 thoughts on “netball

  1. michelle gd

    {oh, jane, so lovely finding you here this morning}

    a delightful story you’ve woven, with such juicy detail. i feel like i am there on that morning…i am one of the mamas with the raincoat hood ;)

  2. sas

    holy crap i just time warped back to 1985!
    love this jane.
    i remember getting up early and eating breakfast in front of ‘what now’ in my netball gear with little brother in his soccer gear.
    lovely memories!


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