The Bee Scream

Call me crazy, but I’m longing for that first bee scream of the season.


You know the one I’m talking about. It usually takes place during a halftime huddle when the coach (me) is getting ready to divulge the second half game plan. It’s the clear answer to winning that 0-0 game, I’ve got it all figured out. I have all the girls’ attention (finally); for once they are totally focused on the game and want to win. Hair is fixed, water downed and the ritual showing-off of bruises, raspberries and scratches earned in the first half is complete. All the stars, planets, moons (and everything else out there) are aligned. OMG - they are all listening.

And then it happens. A damn bee buzzes too close to someone’s ear. You see it coming a split-second before it happens and pray a quick prayer to the coaching God above, “please let her be the camping-kind-of-gal that isn’t affected by a little bug”.

Well, of course she’s not - and she lets out a high-pitched SCREAM-OF-ALL-SCREAMS. It’s the noise that someone would only make if they were attacked in the shower by a super ugly, knife-wielding madman. She not only screams, but jumps 3’ into the air while shaking her hands and arms like an out of control marionette. Upon landing, she immediately jukes and jives around in a half circle like nothing you’ve ever seen. She spins left, then right, head fake and then an incredible burst of speed for at least five yards. Barry Sanders had nothing on this girl.

Her movements are highly contagious, and the other 14 join in mimicking her shakes, twists, yelps and various forms of jerky gyrations. It’s almost like being at a Kenny Loggins concert. This scene, of course, catches the eye of the other team, the referees, both teams’ parents. I can only hope they somehow saw and understand the incident and not just think we are “screwing around”. The high-pitched tones cause neighborhood dogs to start barking.

The bee returns a couple times, scaring random girls here and there. Every one of them is wide eyed now, frantically combing the area for a glimpse of the perpetrator. I find myself saying a couple of times, “it’s just a fly” – my lame attempt to try to regain their attention.

Once the sideline settles down somewhat, I realize the other team has taken the field and are waiting. “Play hard girls” is all I’m able to choke out.

A little perturbed, yes. A little embarrassed, yes. Laughing to myself, yes.

Ah, the beauty of outdoor soccer. Can’t wait.