Team Roles

Nicole #6, Marianna #10

There are many roles to fill on a team. Team player, team captain, team coach, team trainer, team manager, team mom.

I’m the team introvert.

During games, I tend to sit by myself in the stands or on the sidelines. It’s not that I don’t like the other parents. It’s just that after a smile and a “hi”, I’m at a loss as to what to do. Plus I don’t want to intrude on anyone. Many times after a game, Nicole will ask, like an encouraging parent of a pre-schooler, “Did you talk to anyone today?”

As usual, I was sitting by myself at the game this past Thursday when one of the girls got injured. And I mean flat-out-on-the-ground injured. I quickly realized I actually knew this girl. Her name is Marianna, and she has been friends with Nicole for years through school, basketball, and soccer.

I also happen to know her mother. Now, the stands were a little sparse that day because the field was quite a hike from us, and any parent would  have had to leave work soon after lunch time to make the 4:00 start. I took a quick look around and didn’t see her mom.

I then thought, “I hope someone is contacting her.” Followed by the thought, “I think I still have her number from our carpooling days.”

I looked around again, and didn’t see anyone reaching for their cell phone.

And I thought, “I can’t possibly be the social connection here, can I?”

So I texted Kim this message:

To the point, wouldn’t you say?

After I texted Kim, one of the girls came running across the field looking for Kim to tell her the trainer thought Marianna was going to need stitches.

I told her I would call Kim.

And then I thought, “Oh God, I have to make a phone call?”

So I called Kim and expanded, slightly, on my text message. I said she might need stitches.

Then, because I had nothing of intelligence to add to that, I felt like a complete fool.  So, I told her I would go over to get more info and call her back.

Next thing I know I’m in the back of the ambulance with Marianna.

Now Marianna was hanging tough, but visibly distressed. I felt badly for her and wanted to help out some how. The whole ride to the hospital, these two thoughts kept alternating through my mind:

I’m not talking enough. I need to come out of my own little world and think of something to say to relax this kid.

I’m talking too much. I must be driving this poor kid crazy. If I was her, all I would want is to be left alone.

I’m sure Nicole would be mortified as to what I chose to converse about in an effort to relax Marianna.

When we got to the hospital, I realized I had been there before. Between Heather, Nicole, my mother, and my mother-in-law, I’ve been to a number of hospitals up and down the east coast over the past few years, and this was my third ride in an ambulance. At one point, I had considered coming up with a travel guide to area hospitals. This hospital would not get a good rating in my guide.

As Marianna was getting into the hospital bed, she was seized with a terribly painful calf cramp. A nurse came over to help, or so I thought. But no, she proceeded to take Marianna’s blood pressure and temperature. So, recalling Heather’s experiences with calf cramps, I started massaging Marianna’s calf and flexing her foot to relax the muscle. Similar to the alternating thoughts in the ambulance, I now alternated between these two thoughts:

I’m not rubbing hard enough. This isn’t helping at all.

I’m rubbing too hard. This isn’t helping at all.

When the calf episode was over, I started to get worked up. She needed water and Advil, not to have her temperature taken. I was about to start spewing forth on the staff (although an introvert, I can spew when provoked) when her mother walked in. And I know Kim well enough to suspect that she is also fully capable of spewing. So I left her to that and, with 1% left in my cell phone battery, I went in search of the parents who had driven my car the the hospital.

Although not something an introvert would necessarily choose to do, it felt good to be able to help. Both Kim and Marianna were very appreciative. And, as an added plus, I think I got major kudos from Nicole.

Later on, the coach called to find out how Marianna was doing. Before handing me the phone to talk to him, Nicole encouraged me by saying, “You can do it Mom.”

Marianna, I hope you are back on the field as soon as possible. The team needs you.