I have been working out a premise since Spring Soccer officially started last week. Yes, you heard me right; here in the tick-infested woodlands of the Crusty Coast we’re already running around in nylon shorts and knee socks. I know that most of the country is still hip-deep in snow, but we’ve been working hard on global warming down here for a hundred years and it is finally starting to pay off.
In any event, as I struggle to keep up with 3 different class preps a day, I have begun treating my students as if they are all soccer players. The same rules even apply. Students may not hit, kick, push, jump at, or swear at each other. All of these are considered fouls as well as dressing inappropriately, entering or leaving the field without permission, or attempting to hit another player with the ball. Granted, that last one doesn’t come up very often in class, but I think that it’s better to be prepared for every contingency.
Even the cardable offenses apply like Unsporting Behavior, Persistent Infringement of the Rules, Dissent, Spitting, Violent Misconduct, Serious Foul Play, etc. I haven’t yet, but I could see how actually showing students the yellow and red cards in class could help everyone understand where the line is for classroom behavior and prompt everyone to settle down accordingly.
I think that I’m going to draw the line at wearing those excellent black knee socks for class, however. Just because the rules of the Beautiful Game apply rather amazingly to the classroom, doesn’t mean that I need to punish students by making them look at my knobby knees.
In other news, I actually said out loud the other day that I wouldn’t mind it terribly if it started to warm up a bit! I have commuted by bicycle every day that I’ve gone to work this school year and I have to say that even with our mild winters I’ve had enough. My biographer has assured me that this is the first time in my entire life that I have wished that the weather could be a little warmer (this is including a camping trip when I fell into a partially frozen lake), which is either an indication that I am beginning my descent into elderly senility or that after more than a decade I’m becoming accustomed to these balmy southern climes. O the horror!