I was working at the hockey arena's concession stand during a bantam tournament the other day. Bantam tourneys are really the place to pick up volunteer hours -- the players' friends aren't old enough to drive themselves, so the only people there are parents. It's very quiet, and the hockey is kind of fun to watch. (I don't recommend breaking the first-place trophy, though, like I did -- it can cause some awkwardness.)
A 10- or 11-year-old girl came up and ordered our specialty, taco in a bag. As it was being made, she said, "My brother has two penalties already. If he gets another one, he'll be benched."
"Oh yeah?" I said. "He better knock it off."
She nodded, bored and a little annoyed. "Yeah and my dad will yell ALL the way home. He always yells at him when he gets penalties."
"Well, that's no fun," I said. "What were the penalties?"
"One was a cross-check and the other one, he's the captain and one of his teammates got hit with a head spear and so when the play started again he hit the other guy with his head."
"Cross-checking, OK, I can see that," I said. "That's a good penalty. But you can't go in for the head spear. That's not safe for anybody."
"No, it's not," she agreed, twirling the tie on her hockey tuque's earflap.
"Do you play?"
She nodded. "Yup." A beat. "When I get penalties, Dad yells at the ref."