Can I Help?

So the Goob's track coach, who I am indebted to, because not only does he put up with the Goob at track but is also his math teacher, asked me last week if I could help at this week's track meet.  I am good at helping at sporting events.  I was quite the soccer mom back in the day.   I excel in the concession stand.  But there was no concession stand at the track meet.  (This is another reason the Goob is not a fan of track.  After all, what kind of sporting event can it be without a decent concession stand?)  The Goob came home on Friday and said I would be raking the sand pits.  My friend said this was not a bad job;  where I didn't want to be was the shot put.  So I wrapped my mind around raking sand all day and getting a little sun--kind of a zen-gardening frame of mind. 
When I arrived at the track, the coach (who remember has had my beloved son every day in class for the last two years) said I would be working with Coach History Teacher at the discus.  Just beyond the shot put in more ways than one. (Somehow I think this plan may have been hatched in the teacher's lounge.)

This is the view of the track from the discus court field station place.  See all those middle schoolers?  Everyone of them threw the discus.  At least three times.  My job was to run one end of the measuring tape so they would know how far they threw. 
My dad had a big tape that he would never let me touch.  After Saturday I no longer have any desire to touch the tape. 

Coach History Teacher's Wife ran the end of tape out in the field.  When she bent over her back side pointed to the train tracks.

I ran the end of the tape through the middle of the circle. So when I squatted down or bent over to hold the tape, my back side pointed to the spectators.  A thousand times.  Remember I had dressed thinking I would be raking designs in large Japanese sand pits.  So I had to leave my sweatshirt on even when the sun was beating down.  And today it is slightly painful to go up and down the stairs.  (Look closely, you can see the tape in the dirt in front of the circle.)


I knew that I would blog this and I thought about asking the Goob to take a picture of my back side through the fencing.  But I decided against that. That would make me some kind of blogging nut.  Not to mention be the ultimate in embarrassing for more than one of us. 

So here is my advice if you ever are asked to help at a track meet:
1.  Try to think up a good reason you can not help.
2.  Arrive early and grab a rake.
3.  Offer to 'shag' discuses  disci whatever is being thrown.
4.  Dress in layers.  Wear a shirt and pants that pass the squat test.
5.  Do not touch your nose and upper lip after you have touched the tape which has been pulled through the dirt.

Can I quit track?