national netball tournament!

This morning at the bright and early time of 7am, I headed off with the Under 12s and 13s to the National netball finals at Roedean, a girls boarding school in Brighton. Not because I had to, but because I got asked to come and I really wanted to! Day spent watching netball? Yes please. Netball tragic? Little bit. I blame my mother.

This is the school --> http://www.roedean.co.uk
I seriously want to win lotto, then enrol in this school and pretend I am 16 again. I would go through A-Levels to go to this school. It was amazing. It was on the edge of a cliff overlooking Brighton Beach, with the biggest and most beautiful grounds I have ever seen. They had the hugest theatre and about a million netball courts - it was straight out of 'St. Clares', but so much better.
(Brighton is awesome. Although I only saw it from the inside of the bus, I am booking a weekend there ASAP!)

Watching netball in England is pretty much the same, it just feels a lot more posh! Parents and coaches were calling 'Play up! Mark up!', which I figured out meant something like 'Play better' - I always thought it was something Enid Blyton had put in her books for shits and gigs, but apparantly people do say that! The bodysuits that we all wear back home have just made their way over here, but because it is ALWAYS SO COLD in this country they wear them with long thermals, which makes them look like they're wearing some kind of weird onesie...hahahaha.

About the tournament itself, there isn't much to say except that our girls played really well. They didn't get through to the play-offs, but just missed out! There were a few injuries (the first aid kit became my best friend...), but it was nothing a bit of R.I.C.E (rest,ice,compression,elevation) wouldn't fix! Every game was so close, the PE teachers and I couldn't watch at points, it was so tense. I spent a bit of time comforting some of the girls whose confidence had shot down a bit thanks to a loss or two - epecially the boarders, it must be hard for them at times, because you really want your parents to watch you at times like these! During the breaks I bonded with the teachers or huddled under blankets with the girls, eating their food and giving them life advice (with my whole six more years of experience...). They are just gorgeous girls, so much fun, calls of 'Miss P! Miss P! Watch this!!', followed by a crazy attempt at shooting from somewhere in the centre third went on all day!

The tournament was a prep school tournament, which you could guess by the cars! Walking back to the bus, we passed so many Volvos, Range Rovers and generally expensive cars (my car knowledge is crap, it's restricted to adjectives like 'shiny' and 'red') that it became a little bit hilarious. It got funnier when we passed a woman wearing a fur coat and heels - she looked like she had just stepped out of a fashion house. To be completely honest, she probably had but still, she was at a netball tournament! Heels? Seriously?
(There was also a seriously fit guy staffing the gate. So fit. I died. If only I wasn't wearing 100 layers and didn't have windblown hair...)

Now I'm home again, all netball-ed out, sitting in the library with Izzy and Aisling, contemplating whether I have enough energy to go upstairs and make myself pasta...