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Safety Cups

By: Angela Gillaspie © November 2000

I think I've sprained my right boob.

Last night, I tried something new with my team of 9- and 10-year-old soccer players. It was our last practice and I wanted to end the season with a bang, so I suggested for the kids to challenge the parents to a friendly game of soccer.

On my team (the parent team), an older sibling played goalie and I played right defensive back. In no time, the ball ended up in my zone and I tentatively kicked at the ball, worrying that I might hurt the kids (and myself). I noticed the other moms were responding to the ball in the same way.

When the ball came toward them they giggled, raised their hands as if they were warding off evil, pointed their toes, closed their eyes and kicked. It was a dainty dance of pushing the ball away quickly while avoiding small cleated feet.

The dads barreled up and whacked the ball. This was serious - this was Sports!

One of kids hollered, "Hey Coach Mom! You need to get more aggressive!"

The ball got past me several times and the goalie quickly scooped up the ball and punted it out past mid-field. Tiring of catching my misses, the goalie asked if we could trade places.

Within minutes I found myself face-to-face with four sweat-streaked kids determined to score on me. With my left forearm, I smacked the ball away. Ouch.

Soon, the ball was heading toward me and I kicked the ball hard and felt one of my toenails peel back as I clipped the side of the ball. The kids volleyed the ball back into the net to score. I didn't know which hurt more, my arm, my toe or the goal. What had I gotten myself into?

One of the parents dribbled down and shot the net, scoring a goal for us. I was pleased, but more interested in deep breathing to control my pain and to discreetly scratch my itching legs and butt (where the fat was jiggling around from running).

It wasn't much longer when I found myself confronted with a gaggle of kids trying to get the ball past me. Someone shot the ball hard from the side and I turned and blocked the goal straight on with my right boob. I doubled over while little twinkling stars danced before my eyes; I heard my daughter call out, "Momma? Are you OK?"

Did I mention that it's the week before my 'monthly joy' and my breasts were already sensitive?

Anyway, I replied, "Sure I'm OK! It was only *one* of my breasts. I have another one, just in case I ever need it."

She shrugged, and went on to pass the ball. I don't remember the last ten minutes of the game very well, only that when practice was over, I practically cried with joy. During the end-of-practice pep talk and prayer, the kids probably thought I was overcome with emotion because it was our last practice.

After my shower that evening, I decided to wear an athletic bra to bed to curb the pain, and I hissed as I pulled it on. Hearing my protests, my daughter again asked me, "Are you sure you're OK? I tried not to hit you too hard tonight; I didn't want you to get hurt."

Bless her heart - she was the one who nailed me in the chest - she just wasn't going to admit it.

She looked at me with pity and asked, "Does it hurt when you get hit on the bitsy?"

"Yes, honey," I moaned.

Men have protection for their parts, as I've learned from my husband and oldest son. There are cups and straps to protect their most prized possession. My breasts aren't my most prized possession, although I have to admit that it was fun using them to nourish a baby. Currently they just hang around - not really having a purpose, other than something for me to complain about once a month.

An athletic bra just keeps breasts from flopping and bouncing around (not a really big problem for me), but doesn't really protect the breast from getting nailed by a soccer ball flying in excess of 50mph.

How can you protect your bitsies?

Our last soccer game is this Saturday and my bitsies are probably not in danger since I usually stand on the sidelines and scream. Still, I think I'll visit Wal-Mart tonight and purchase one of those really attractive two-inch thick padded bras and then stuff the cups with several of my nursing pads from four years ago.

I'm sure I'll get some odd stares at the game tomorrow, but with my new sporty-buxom look, I will be both perky and protected.


Stay tuned for more SouthernAngel's injuries!


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