If I ever find myself somehow holding the responsibility of building a netball centre, there are a few things I will focus on.
Enough space between courts for anyone over the size of a bulemic dormouse to make their way courtside and back.
Time displays that do not ensure emergency calls to another generation of Auckland neck massage therapists.
Weather protection.
Parking that actually takes into account the possible numbers of netballers wanting to be in the same space at the same time.
So. The parking is diabolical, and I don't even contemplate it; I pull into the convenient layby, drop my daughter, and go and park in Australia and walk back.
Okay, that's a slight exaggeration.
Walking back this last week, I looked over my right shoulder and mouthed astonishment at the carpark madness. As I did, a lady exited the carpark and aimed for the entrance of the Poenamo Hotel, directly over the road, where a few parking spaces might still exist. She had to dart pretty smartly over the west-bound bit of road, because the lights had changed; she did that and then braked sharply because a couple of cyclists were east-bound and crossing the entrance of the Poenamo. No biggie, they were the only traffic.
Except they obviously were startled, and swerved, though they didn't need to.
She (as it turns out) carried on cycling. He did not.
The motorist pulled into the entrance of the Poe, stopped, wound down her window and started to apologise. Which is as far as she got.
All I could think was - you kiss your mother with that mouth?
He unleashed the most foul-mouthed diatribe on her I have ever heard; and I've been to Wembley, people.
At a point he had his hands inside her window, threatening to 'f***ing smash you, you f***ing b**ch, you cow, you ..."
I had my camera and my phone in my pocket (I'm such a netball mum) so I pulled them out, pointed out I could use them both at once (they're SO clever, these Japanese!) and also told him that (a) he and his partner were never in danger and he was overreacting (b) he was using language highly inappropriate for a venue hosting sporting events for children anywhere between 5 and 18 and (c) he was a total douche. He informed me that his partner was f***ing pregnant; so I suggested he ride after her and guard her. Luckily, we both saw the wisdom of this course of action.
Poor lady was shaking like a leaf; but was planning to park up anyway, so she did not accept my suggestion of me driving her anywhere, or getting a sugary drink of some sort, which I think is what you do for people in shock.
Way to garner motorist sympathy, Mr Cyclist.
And on a hilarious footnote : http://shelleytherepublican.com/2007/06/21/cyclists-the-two-wheeled-menace.aspx
