This weekend began and ended with a bang. In light of the Waves’ last netball tournie before break (and my impending move to NY), Parker and my father graciously agreed to a quickie expedition with me, up to Norcal. The intended plan was to drive up in the early evening Friday, do two days in the city and head down in the afternoon of the second. It certainly felt fast: packed with a constant throng of ‘things to do’ – the thought of it was tiresome but we plowed ahead with tireless aplomb.
Of course, there was no shortage of minor complications along the way; these of course, amounted to a pain in the bum, two of which i’ve detail below:
1) Friday night the Benz springs a flat while heading down to Del Mar, where Park works. Of course there’s nothing unusual about such an occurrence, however, there is something terribly wrong with the number of flats it has seen in the last 4 months – 5 to be exact. Destined for continual repairs, it’s almost as if its wings were clipped just before the keys were handed to us. Although the absence of a spare was a cause for consternation, we decided to brave the road.
2) Saturday morning saw me up at 7.30 am, prepping for the jaunt to Treasure Island. The tournie was being housed at the Rugby Club there, where an adjunct netball court had been built. Brand spanking new. Park has some great pictures from the day. When he tired of his man duties he excused himself to go into the city for a spot of Chinese food with my father, and his trusty camera.
During our break, Park and I purchased position-specific t-shirts reading: “My favorite position is on my back.” Wearing it outside the context of the tournament proved to be a tad embarrassing. En route home, after unwittingly spilling ColdStones all over my shirt, I changed into my netball tee, only to clutch my chest to cover its message when we were visiting the Mission (Park’s idea, as usual), which was coincidentally overrun with big burly bikers that weekend.
3) After jamming in as much sightseeing as was feasible, we made our way home via the “scenic route” along the coast. It was beautiful, although not the easiest to navigate given the winding avenues… Unfortunately due to our own underestimation of time, we did not arrive home until 1.30am. And of course, just as Park was leaving to go home that morning at 5am, the Benz sprang another flat.
