#Women’s sports is not a retirement plan for older men

[coochiequeens]

I'm going to guess that this is another man who can't compete with younger men anymore, through no fault of his own he's just aging, and instead of accepting that gracefully and focusing elsewhere like coaching he's using women’s sports to prolong a sports career that should have been over by now.

By Amy Hamm June 24, 2024

Female rugby players in Alberta, Canada, are expressing concerns for their safety after a male who only recently began to identify as a “woman” was permitted to join their team. The women say their club is more worried about “discrimination” lawsuits than their potential injuries.

Players for the Clanswomen, a female rugby team in the Clansmen Rugby Club (CRC) and under the jurisdiction of the Edmonton Rugby Club, told Reduxx they were only recently informed by a coach that Maeryn Gellhaus, 48, was allowed to join their team.

Several members of the Clanswomen, who are being kept anonymous for their protection, explained that they knew Gellhaus had previously played on a men’s team in the CRC before he began to identify as transgender. He also reportedly coaches a youth team in the CRC.

According to a Clanswomen player who spoke with Reduxx, Gellhaus approached executives at the CRC sometime in May, requesting to switch from the men’s team to the women’s team. He has since been attending the women’s practice sessions twice a week. The female players were reportedly not consulted about his acceptance onto the roster.

Gellhaus made an Instagram post about joining the women’s team on May 29, boasting that he had played nearly 300 games as a male, but had been accepted into the Clanswomen after declaring himself to be a woman.

“I’ve played almost 300 games for my club. Played on every team possible. But the reason I never really fit in was because I was never really on the RIGHT team. Until tonight… tonight the Clanswomen allowed me to join them. So for once (maybe just once) I can take the pitch as myself for the right team.”

According to an Instagram post by Gellhaus, he began to identify as transgender and take cross-sex hormones (HRT) just four months ago and primarily presents as “male” most of the time.

“I’m only 4 months deep into HRT. I haven’t had [facial feminization surgery]. I still boy-mode mostly,” he wrote in another post from June 4.

The anonymous female players said that Gellhaus was allegedly informed that several of the women on the team were uncomfortable with his presence and worried about being injured playing with a male. Days later, Gellhaus took to Instagram again, complaining that some of the women had been less than accomodating to him.

“There are a lot of girls that have been absolutely amazing to me there. But there is an underlying feeling that some don’t want me there. Badly. It hasn’t been figured out yet. I’m trying to decide if it’s worth the struggle. I want to be celebrated, not tolerated,” he wrote.

Just last week, Gellhaus was finally added to the publicly-available team roster on the Clansmen Rugby Club’s website. He played his first game with the team on Saturday in St. Albert, Alberta.

One female player told Reduxx that she was focused on fairness and safety, and that none of the women opposed to Gellhaus’ presence were motivated by transphobia. Instead, she explained fear of injury was the primary concern amongst the women.

“It’s safety and fairness of sport. It’s pretty f*cked up that one person’s ‘feelings’ trump legitimate concerns of safety from our women. Our opinions and feelings don’t matter,” she said.

“In an aggressive contact sport like rugby, where your only required protection is a mouth guard, why do we have to argue over safety and explain the risks of women versus men?”

Several of the women have approached Canada’s governing body for Rugby with concerns about safety, but were told that the club must follow the current guidance, which enables players to choose a team based on their self-identified gender “at both recreational and competitive levels.”

Rugby Canada regulations claim to “resolve gender identity and gender expression issues” via their discipline and complaints policy. The policy does not provide any mention of the safety of female players matched with or against males.

“It’s reckless. The club is afraid [Gellhaus] will file a discrimination suit if we don’t let him play,” another Clanswomen player revealed. “I argue he is to be accepted ‘as is’ with the men’s team, or he can go play in one of the co-ed leagues.”

[mv1simp]

prompt: max finding out one of the driver's "innocent" sister actually has a secret diary/account dedicated to all her naughty desires for him

Sweet Like Candy ♥️

Max Verstappen x Camgirl!Reader

sugar coated, lies unfolded, you still lick the wrapper. its addictive, you know this (but you still lick the wrapper)

At 27, three time world champion Max Verstappen has become bored with the blinding glamour and fake crowds who try to cling onto his fame. So when you catch his interest, sparking desire for the first time in months, he quickly becomes obsessed. He just never imagined his favourite camgirl would turn out to be his ex teammate’s shy, little sister who needed to pay off her college loans.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, camgirl!reader, Riccardio!reader, basically sugar daddy! max vibes lolz, somnophilia, blackmail, filming, cheating, 3.8k WC

Max Verstappen knew he was famous - everyone wanted a piece of the most desired driver in the richest sport on earth. When he'd been younger, high off the rush of being crowned a world champion, he’d been cockier about it, too. He enjoyed the smug arrogance that came with his skill, with his million figure paycheck, knowing that most men he met wanted to be him and most girls wanted to be with him. And it certainly didn’t hurt that he looked the way he did, all 6 foot of thick, built muscle and angled jawline with intense blue eyes. He’s had more than his fair share of rolling around in the sheets (and private jets and yachts and backseats of luxury Aston Martins - you get the picture) with countless models and actresses.

Now, at 27, he’d mellowed out, being quietly assured in his confidence and dominating aura. His talent and insane track record does all the talking for him without him needing to say a word when he steps into any room. And he’d stopped his playboy ways too, now the very picture of a loyal family man with his long term model girlfriend and her child who he doted on. It was true that he didn't hold any romantic feelings for her or love her particularly - but that was rare these days, anyways, with the superficial women who constantly surrounded him. But he knew he had her loyalty and in turn, she was provided for with access to Max's fame and finances.

Sure, he’s still offered temptations of money, drugs, alcohol, and sex on the daily, with tens of thousands of people desperate to offer him something to get a taste of the famous Max Verstappen. But unlike his younger self, his self control these days was much better. He rarely found something new that he hadn’t already tried and gotten bored of in his glamorous life as a F1 driver. He’d already started planning his retirement after his Redbull contract ended, somewhere on a remote island far away from all the greedy swarms eager to sink their claws into him.

So one day when one of his mates sent him a link, and your OnlyFans page pops up as he hovered over it, Max just rolled his eyes. His friend had texted that he had to check this chick out, she was so fucking sexy. Max had almost ignored it, already being used to countless offers from insta models DMing him on the daily. But maybe he’d been extra bored that day, because somehow he ends up clicking onto your page. And everyday, he thanks whatever fucked up God was watching from above that he did. Because what he saw next quickly became the world champion’s secret obsession.

You’re a cute young 20something, the very vision of a pure angel who lusted for dirtier fantasies she was too shy to ask for in real life. Your OnlyFans feed was filled with horny thoughts about wanting to get fucked by your older brother’s hot friend or which sexy songs you liked to listen to as you breathlessly use your pink bullet vibrator. It's a new page, started only a month ago, but you already have a few thousand followers, all drooling over the innocent yet tempting pictures you post. Nothing too raunchy - but more suggestive, in tight pastel crop tops with your nipples poking through or a shot of your curvy ass in a white lace panties. Probably a college kid, Max guessed, from the fact that the corner of a textbook could sometimes be seen in your photos and that you offered more naughtier photos to those viewers who payed a little extra. Clearly not any sort of adult film actress - and Max would know, because he’d definitely had some fun with one (or two) before.

But the real cherry on top was when he scrolled across a recent video stream you’d posted. Playing it out loud in his empty penthouse, his cock immediately hardened at the sight of your petite, curvy figure dressed up in lacy lingerie. You sat on your fluffy bed, surrounded by pink fluffy cushions and throw blankets, your face hidden from your teasing smile up. Your glossy, pouting lips giggle easily as you sway your hips in the cute lace babydoll you’re wearing, excitedly chattering about some pop singer you liked or the other. You're answering prying questions viewers are asking, reading them out loud from the chat. Did you have a boyfriend, what's your ideal type of man?

Max likes the soft, playful sound of your girly voice. His mind dirtily wonders what you'd sound like moaning underneath his much larger form. You hmmm for a second, pouting cutely, before shyly admitting that there was just one guy you’d had a crush on for ages, but he had no idea you existed. A friend of your brother's, in fact, you guys probably know him, you mused. He’s pretty famous! Comments flood the chat, trying to guess if he was a singer or actor or-

Nope, he’s an athlete! You giggle, biting your glossy lip and playing with your hard nipples. Max can’t resist palming his own cock through his sweats as he hungrily enjoys the sight of your pretty brown areolas through the see-through lace. He-mmmh-he’s Dutch, you begin, suppressing cute gasps as you toy with your oversensitive, perky tits. So tall, too, and super strong, I love seeing him shirtless! I’ll give you guys one more clue…he’s the fastest man alive when you put him in a racecar.

Ice blue eyes narrow as the comments finally hone in on just who you were talking about. So this is why his friend had sent him this, huh? He couldn’t deny he wasn’t pleased with the way you giggle cutely and confirm that your big fat crush was on Max Verstappen. I know it’s wrong, you whine, breathless as your small, manicured fingers slip down your body to play with the edge of your panties. It’s so naughty, he doesn’t know me and even has a pretty girlfriend, but every night I dream about him fucking me. He’s so hot, so dreamy, and that Dutch accent of his - you cut yourself off with a pleasurable moan, now teasing the audience as you finger yourself through your dripping panties, not letting anyone get a full view of your innocence. Let’s just say I’d let him use me anytime, anywhere, however he wants, you laugh sweetly, your voice a contrast to your dirty words.

Oh, fuck. Talk about a vixen. He hadn't seen a treasure as rare as you in a long time. And it looked like many, many viewers enjoyed your particular brand of angelic sinfulness as multiple donations flood in, begging you to finally take your panties off on the main stream. Max can't stop himself from sending a generous one himself, after jacking off to completion at the sweet sounds of you cumming through your panties. You'd eagerly humped one of your pink cushions, tits bouncing through the practically see through lingerie, moaning Max’s name as if he was right there under you when you reached your peak. Oops, sorry guys! You giggle again, your sweet voice now bashful. Got too caught up, next time I’ll make sure to say the name of the highest donor, mmkay?

It's a good OnlyFans account - no, a great one, but Max didn’t think of it much afterwards, getting caught up in his own busy life and making sure to erase his search history in case his overly paranoid girlfriend came snooping. The fact that you'd mentioned he was friends with your brother also meant very little, given his very large circle of friends and acquaintances given his fame. Everyone liked to say they were mates with Max Verstappen, F1 champion, even if the extent of friendship had been a single handshake.

To his surprise though, a few days later he received a private DM from you, sweetly thanking him for his generous donation! Curious, he opens your message, knowing you wouldn't know who he was from his generic username of CatDaddy33. He hadn't thought he had sent you much at all, maybe a couple grand? You deserved it, working so hard to dress up cutely and pay off whatever college loans you probably had.

But apparently you thought it was a very lavish contribution, because you’d sent him a very tempting photo as a thank you gift. He’d almost dropped his phone when he sees your lush bare tits, out on display as you stuck your pink tongue out cheekily, the rest of your face still hidden. Just for you. Hope you enjoy! you captioned, one small hand cupping your breasts and squeezing a pretty nipple that practically had Max salivating to sink his teeth into. Oh, he certainly enjoyed it, saving it to his private collection to jack off too later when his uptight girlfriend wasn’t in the mood - which was usually the case the majority of the month.

He ends up logging back onto your page that night to enjoy your latest steam, then another, and soon enough he had a full blown infatuation with you. Your tempting, curvy figure and your pretty lips that you bite as you keep talking about how turned on Maxie had made you in the qualifying today, looking so muscly and angry! has him downloading your naughty nudes to his phone. It’d been a long time since a girl had gotten him get so turned on, after all. You drove him wild with your girly, innocent mannerisms paired with your sexy body and filthy words as you play with yourself, always making sure to never fully reveal your face or naked cunny to the viewers with a slutty outfit covering you.

Of course, he generously tips each time he visits your page, resulting in you frequently sending him more thank you presents each time. Lately you've been asking him if he wants you to wear a certain outfit or call out his name in your next video, but he texts back that he just enjoyed watching you have fun, sweetheart. And that's true - because that's all this can be, just a private guilty pleasure for him to enjoy behind closed doors. The rest of the world wouldn't respond well to his dedicated, family man image if they knew that the Dutch champion secretly liked his girls sweet and begging for his attention on adult websites. Even though his actual relationship had become more of a PR facade, now, and had been that way for well over six months. The last chemistry fizzled out when she’d tried to wake Max up with her mouth on his morning wood, somehow trying to make up for weeks of no sex. He made up some excuse about being stressed for the race as he rapidly softened despite her repeat attempts, pushing her off him and going to shower.

But as soon as he’s under the warm steam, he’d only had to close his eyes and picture your perfect, full pouting lips on his cock instead for his impressive semi to come rushing back. As he lazily strokes himself, he wonders what your eyes looked like, still having never seen them with how you kept the top half of your face off the frame. Would you look up at him sultrily as your pink tongue darted out and licked his slit, or did you prefer having him meanly shove his cock all the way in as you gagged with wide, teary doe eyes? He guessed the second fantasy would be your pick, judging by how your breath seemed to hitch in excitement whenever a commanding order was DMed to you following a donation. The submissive type, for sure, who’d once said she’d eagerly let Max Verstappen have his way with her wherever, however he wanted her-

He came with a muffled groan, panting heavily as his release drips down to be cleaned away by the hot water. Maybe he’d finally give into your pleas to him to request something and ask you to suck a sweet lollipop for him on your next stream.

He puts his distracting thoughts about you to the back of his mind as he arrives on the paddock, camera flashes going crazy as they note the increased distance between the Redbull driver and his unhappy girlfriend as she trails behind him. Frankly, Max had stopped caring what his public image was at this point in the season, knowing it was only a matter of time before he got his PR manager involved to cook up some mutual breakup story to feed the media.

Qualifying goes well and the race even better for once, despite the shit box his car had been this season. Afterwards, he greets Daniel, who greets him excitedly and commends his race efforts. The two drivers are laughing, catching up easily in their conversation - when a small figure turns the corner to come up next to Daniel’s side. Oh! The Australian man grins, gently tugging the shy figure by his side forward. You remember my little sis, right Max?

The Dutchman stared at your blushing face as you nervously avoid eye contact with the much taller blonde. Cute, he thinks briefly, finding your brown doe eyes and Riccardio curls pretty. Sure, I remember her, we met at the Silverstone race last year, right? It had been a brief meeting, Daniel swinging by the Redbull garage to congratulate Max and you’d been trailing behind him. Max vaguely remembered you from your younger days, when you’d shyly stayed out of the older boys' way when he had visited Daniel in his Perth family home in Australia. But you’d grown up now, and had chosen to attend college overseas in London, and Max politely asks if you were still studying there. On a full ride scholarship too, Daniel confirms proudly, fondly ruffling your curls and making you protest. Still won’t accept a dime from her older brother, even with the ridiculous London rent.

Pouting rather adorably, you quickly fix your hair, glaring at your sibling as you mutter that you didn’t want his tax evasion money, thanks, you could look after yourself. Max laughs, pleasantly surprised you had some teeth behind your blushing, pretty face. You immediately look up to see his gorgeous blue eyes looking at you in interest before nervously flicking them away again, clutching onto Daniel’s hoodie as the two men resume their conversation. Later, as he watches you walk away, Max can’t help thinking about how your girly voice and pouting lips had looked so familiar. He knows many beautiful women, but there was something about your unique, natural face that made attraction swirl in his chest. He’s still thinking about it that night, annoyed about not knowing where else he’s seen you besides at your brother’s side.

And then your latest video had him sitting up straight in shock. Because he recognises the hoodie that’s draped across the back of your chair in the corner of the screen. He'd recognise it anywhere. You, of course, probably had not thought twice about the item of clothing that belonged to your brother - with it just looking like another piece of F1 merchandise to anyone watching. But Max knew that Redbull insignia on the back, signed DR3 along the logo generically but with an extra little present that Max had drawn on himself when his teammate had fallen asleep next to him on a private plane ride. The crude, cartoon dick drawing stares back at Max through the screen as he immediately recognises what he’d found funny as an 18 year old. There was only one person in the world who would own this sweatshirt personally customized by the world champion - and given the fact that you were the one who seemed to have borrowed it….the mystery of your identity finally unravels.

He sends you a private DM that very night, not wanting to play any games. He knew he had to have you, now that he knows you’re right under his nose. I know who’s little sister you are, baby.

You respond back immediately, which isn’t suprising considering how you’re in the same time zone currently. I have no idea what you’re talking about, you text, trying to deny his claim. Max smirks. He almost feels mean for winding you up but he knows you’ll be so grateful for it in the end. You’re telling me you aren’t Daniel Riccardio’s little sister? I saw you on the paddock today. No point in hiding anymore.

You seen his message for a few tense minutes, and he wonders if he approached this wrong because you could just block him. But then you frantically send back a how the hell do you know that? How did you find out?

Max chuckles as he corners you right where he wants. And an hour later you’re on a private video call with him, very differently dressed that your usual skimpy attire in a baggy t-shirt that covers all your skin as you demand to know just what he wanted. Of course, you still have no idea who he is, because even though he has his camera on, his face is well out of view. You can only squint at the image of a fit appearing guy, dressed casually in sweats but his strong muscles still showing through. You impatiently read out the next DM he sends you. I want to see your pussy, spread open for me completely-What the hell?! you shriek, outraged.

You try to get out of it, saying that was too embarrassing to do, but he makes you realise there it was futile to resist. He orders you to show your face in the video, saying there’s no point hiding it anymore since he knew exactly who you were. All over DM, of course - he couldn’t have your recognising his deep, Dutch voice that you always gushed about.

You pout cutely, lips downturned and an upset expression on your face as you slowly undress yourself for him. Then you follow his orders, gently playing with yourself as you teasingly suckle on your pink vibrator so that he could imagine what you’d look like with your lips around him, instead. Max lazily jerks himself off to the sight, enjoying how you started obediently following his instructions once you saw his hand reach into his sweats and slide his erection out. Your doe eyes went wide with guilty desire at the sight of his impressive, hard length, and you swallow back drool when you see his leaking, angry tip. Soon he had you spreading your puffy cunny lips wide for him to greedily look at, before you start sliding your little vibrator in between your achy core. He makes you call out his name like you always did, of course, and say out loud all of the dirty fantasies you’d been dreaming about lately involving your brother’s best friend. You cum intensely and Max follows shortly after, the both of you caught up in the sinful activity.

It’d been easy enough to find out the room number you’d been staying at as the Riccardio siblings were at the same hotel as him, and even easier to get the swipe card. He was Max Verstappen, after all. Leaving his bitchy girlfriend alone in his room, he makes his way to yours in the middle of the night. The hallway light briefly illuminates your peacefully sleeping figure when he opens the door, quietly locking it behind him.

You’re deep asleep, plush tits rising and falling, dressed in a cute see through lace nightgown and matching panties. After admiring the sight for a few minutes, he slides into bed behind you, finally getting to toy with those pretty nipples and squeeze the plush ass he’d been fantasising about for weeks on end. You quietly moan in your unconscious state, sleepily grinding back against the warm, hard body holding you and arching your back into the hungry mouth suckling on your stiff nipples. Soon he’s wedges his fat cock in between your thick thighs, panting heavily as he fucks then slowly so you don’t wake up. He barely lasts a couple minutes, his head dizzy with pleasure for the first time in months as blood rushes to his already hard cock. After he’s cum copiously all over your tanned skin, he slides off your panties to take for himself, making sure to rub his creamy release along your puffy slit with his large hands. He can’t resist sliding a finger inside to get feel of how luxuriously tight your pussy feels, groaning when he feels your walls clench down on him. His cock was going to experience heaven when it finally got to sink home inside you, he was sure.

You spend your day confused the next morning, remembering hazy wet dreams from the night before but not quite being able to recall exact what you’d dreamt. And you’d never been able to find your favourite lace panties, assuming they got lost in the laundry when room service cleaned up. Until your online bully, as you’d taken to calling him, sends you a naughty photo. It’s one that he could only have had access to if he’d taken it himself, you realize with a shocked gasp, as you stare at your peacefully sleeping figure. A gigantic cock, much bigger than any of your cute toys, slides into the waistband of your pink panties - which are completely see through from how soaked they’ve become. And that was one of the tamer pictures Max took that night. He wonders how you’d react to the one he has of his drooling tip brushing against your parted lips, his sticky release from earlier now leaking into your wet mouth.

You’re even cuter when you’re not putting up a fight his message says. You freak out, of course, but he doesn’t respond to your frantic questions and instead orders you to be dressed up for him tonight in that navy lace babydoll and matching blindfold set he’s having delivered, okay?

You swallow, unable to hide the rising curiosity and desire at the rich, mysterious stranger you had drawn in. You can’t really be mad at him when he sends a $10k reward to your account after teasing you with the filthy photos he’d been taking. A girl had to pay off her college loans, after all.

Besides, a hot, muscled sugar daddy appealed to you a lot more than streaming for thousands of strangers. You couldn’t wait to meet him tonight!

—————————————————————————

A/N: 😏😏😏 thank you so much for waiting patiently my dearest readers, work has been crazy but I finally have some time now to feed you!!! Get ready I’m about to be dropping some hot pieces for you including part 2 of earned it and haunted!!

[cricket-reader]

Scars

Masterlist | A03 | Wattpad | Recommendations | Inbox

Summary: an undercover mission gone wrong. After being kidnapped by a trafficking leader, Steve is there when she wakes up back at the tower.

Warnings: language, creepy captor, pet names, human trafficking (mentioned), drugging, torture, injuries, canon level violence

Word Count: 3,900

Prompt: Spy/Military, interrogation, undercover mission

A/N: day 3 of March Trope-A-Thon by @amonthofwhump

It isn’t the most conventional plan. Regardless, it had been the best they could come up with. Infiltration through going undercover. How hard can it be?

The team watches her walk into the bar that women have been going missing from. She sidles up to the counter and orders a fruity non-alcoholic drink. She is on the clock, afterall. There will be plenty of time to drink after they find the place where the women are disappearing.

Her eyes sweep the room, looking for anyone suspicious as she takes a light sip of the drink. It tastes different than she’s used to, but she supposes that’s because there’s no alcohol in it. Plus, she has never been to this bar before. Most small owned bars are different. This one just seems like any other normal, run down dive bar.

She wonders how long this mission will take. She had plans to curl up and watch a movie or show after. She doesn’t want to have to reschedule.

There’s nothing to note within the first twenty minutes of her sitting at the bar, so she takes her half-finished drink and wanders around.

It’s a quaint little place, televisions on each corner showing off the latest American football game. There is plenty of sports memorabilia hung on the walls like any other bar she’s been to. Most of the tables are sticky, the place having been too busy for the employees to make their rounds. No one seems to mind, though.

The patrons are mostly college boys and middle aged men. A few are older people who look like retired soldiers. She does her best to ignore them.

There’s a group of people gathered around one of the televisions in the corner, cheering on one of the teams.

The hallway leading to the bathrooms is dark. Lit only by the light from the main room and some neon signs hung up. She gets chills walking down it and momentarily wishes she had brought a jacket with her.

The air is cool enough now to cause goosebumps to appear on her arms.

Suddenly, Her vision sways in and out as she stumbles down the hallway. Something is wrong. She should tell the others, but her arm feels so heavy. If she could just lift it to her ear to talk into her comm. Black creeps in the corners of her vision and she crashes into a wall. Using it to keep her upright, she groans. What’s happening?

She leans forward, clutching the wall, and slides slowly down until she comes to a stop in a sitting position. She closes her eyes and waits for the pain to pass. It’s still there, though. There's something about being in the dark all alone that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She tries to call out for help, but she's unable to get her vocal cords working. Instead, there's another groan.

The last thing she sees before blacking out are a pair of clean black boots making their way towards her. She doesn’t have the cognisance to be concerned.

When she wakes up, the first thing she notices is that she is sitting up. The second thing she notices is the killer headache pounding in her skull. The third thing is that her hands are bound behind her back and she is in a strange room she has never seen before. Panic grips at her chest as her eyes dart around the room. Where is she? Where is the team? Why haven’t they come for her? What happened?

It feels like hours pass before the only door opens. She instantly looks up at her captor and glares at him.

“Good to see you’re awake!” He smiles, unaffected by her glare. “We just have some questions for you and then we’ll send you on your way.”

She narrows her eyes. This isn’t normal. She was informed that this man is supposed to be a human trafficker. He’s not going to let her go.

“Who do you work for, sweetheart?” He questions. His voice is so saccharinely sweet that it disgusts her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies, implementing her years of acting experience to sound distressed and helpless.

He hums, “I think you do, sweet thing.”

“Please, let me go! I don’t have anything for you!”

A burning pain meets her right cheek and her head is whipped to the left. “Don’t play with me, sweetheart. I know who you are.”

“Then why bother asking?”

Her annoyingly unamused voice angers him. The fact that she is being a smartass makes him want to hit her again. Stupid woman, he thinks.

“Shut up and tell me everything you know!” He bellows, his voice filling the room.

“That’s a bit of a contradiction, don’t you think?” She innocently asks, smirking. She knows how to push his buttons. It’s not hard. He’s a typical short-fused man. Another slap meets her face, but she isn’t even mad. She thought it was funny.

“Just fucking tell me everything you know about the Avengers, now!” He bellows, getting in her face. She cringes at the rotten smell coming from his mouth filled with yellow teeth.

“Alright! Fine!” She acquiesces. “Hmm… Well, Sam and Bucky are always bickering like a married couple, Tony spends all of his time in his lab, Bruce is really sweet, Natasha is actually super cool which I wasn’t expecting; I was actually kinda scared to meet her because she’s so badass, but she’s super awesome.”

The man punches her in the face, having enough of her bullshit. “You know what I mean, bitch!”

“Do I?” She questions only to receive another punch, this time to her stomach.

She doubles over, grabbing her ribs. “Okay, okay, alright, I get it! You don’t want to hear my stupid rants!“

“Why did they send you to that bar?”

“Because you’re trafficking women, duh,” she rolls her eyes as if it were the most obvious answer ever— it kind of is, though.

“Who fucking told you?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I just do the missions.”

He squints his beady little eyes at her. He hates how she isn’t scared. She is acting as if she’s just having a nice conversation, not tied up and beaten down. He wants the usual terror he is met with when he drugs and kidnaps girls. He loves seeing their fear. She isn’t giving him what he wants.

After several seconds of silence and glaring at her, he sighs deeply. “Fine, fine, I suppose you won’t tell me either way. But I will make you talk one way or another.”

She watches him leave the room and sighs. So much for her plans of relaxing.

He returns a couple more times. Each one leaving her with more bruises than she had before. The one time he went a bit overboard and accidentally fractured one of her ribs. After that, he is gracious enough to leave her alone for a long time, not that she can tell, but the bruises do start to slowly heal

The next time the man enters the room, he has brought a box with him.

She knows that whatever is in the box is not good. It doesn’t take a genius to guess it will contain things made to hurt people. Her heart rate picks up as she sits tense against the chair.

She can feel her throat tighten, her breathing become shallow and fast as she stares at the box. There are many possibilities running through her mind as to what will happen when he opens the box.

He sets the box on the table and pulls open the lid. Inside lies an array of knives and scalpels. There’s also a whip and a collar that she can only assume is charged to shock. She swallows heavily as he removes the contents of the box and sets them aside. Then, he turns back to her.

“Now,” he says. “This is going to hurt unless you start talking.”

Of course, she refuses to give him anything. She’d rather die than betray her team

The cuts he makes on her thighs ache. “Seems like this isn’t the first time this has happened, huh?” The man grins, noticing her scarred thighs.

She grits her teeth as he pulls the blade down her thigh again. “No shit, Sherlock. At least the other time I was the one with the blade in my hand

“Shame, you’d look better without them.”

Once he finishes, he holds up a bottle. “Drink.”

She ignores him, not wanting to drink anything given that it’s probably laced with something. She’ll probably just puke it up anyway. That’s what happened last time.

He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Nothing,” she responds dryly.

He chuckles and grabs her chin. “Maybe if you tell me what I want to know, I won’t have to ruin more of your pretty skin.”

She glares at him. She doesn't want anything to do with this evil man. She’d never give up information about her family. Never.

“Well?” He growls menacingly.

“There’s no information to give!” She yells through clenched teeth. She doesn’t care if he hurts her. Nothing can make her talk.

“Oh, but there is,” He squints his eyes as he moves to the weapons.

Setting down the knife, he makes a show of contemplating what to do next. “Maybe I should collar you like the bitch you are.”

She glares at him as he hears her, shock collar in hand. When he reaches her, she struggles against the restraints, craning her neck every which way to try and avoid it.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work. The collar is fastened around her neck and there is nothing she can do about it. She closes her eyes tightly waiting for it to begin.

The feeling of the cuts stinging and blood pooling from her wounds is all-consuming. She tries to hold in her cries, but a choked sob escapes. She feels so pathetic as tears roll down her cheeks and drip onto the floor below her.

The man chuckles in delight, seeing the tears fall down her pretty face.

“All of this could just stop if you give me what I want, pretty girl,” he sneers, brushing a piece of her hair out of her face.

“Never,” she mutters, pulling away from his hand. The man sighs before pressing a button. Within seconds a white hot pain shoots through her body. It feels like her bones are vibrating. Her body convulses a little, and she scrunches her eyes. Blood drips down from her lip where she had bitten it so hard.

He watches her struggle for control, his smirk growing wider by the second.

After a few moments of excruciating torture, the pain finally ends. Black dots cover the corners of her vision before she passes out cold.

When she awakens all she feels is pain. The cuts on her thighs sting and she can still feel the collar digging into her neck.

She groans in discomfort and slowly opens her eyes. She’s sitting on a small bed, surrounded by white walls with a door at the end. Why had she been moved? Tears gather in her eyes when she tries to sit up. She doesn’t try again, knowing she is too weak. She has her limits. She’s no supersoldier.

She takes a minute to regain her breathing. The pain starts to subside a little, but not fully. She looks down, finding bandages around her legs. At least he has the decency to patch me up, I guess.

She shrinks in on herself when the sound of the door opening breaks her from her thoughts.

“Oh good, you’re awake! Maybe now you’ll have some answers for me?”

“Go fuck yourself,” she angrily growls.

“That’s not very nice, now is it, dearie? Didn’t anyone teach you to respect your elders?” He admonishes her, taking out something from the box that he had moved into the room with her.

“I don’t have to respect an asshole like you,” she retorts, pulling on the collar. It feels suffocating. Her stomach drops when he turns around. Now she sees what is in his hands.

A whip.

One of the flesh-tearing whips that she had seen on multiple missions. She’d never seen one in action, but she had seen victims of them. They had welts running all the way up their backs. Some even had them on their legs. It made her nauseous at the time. Seeing it in his hand now causes her entire stomach to churn.

“Sit up, now,” he demands harshly.

Her eyes widen in fear. This can’t be happening. Someone will save her before he gets to her. They have to. they must be looking for her. Surely soon enough Tony or Steve will barge into the room and save her. They have to.

Right?

If they are looking for her then why haven’t they found her yet? Why haven’t they come after her?

“Get up,” he snaps, grabbing her arm roughly.

She winces in pain as he yanks her up. She falls forward, landing on her knees. She looks up at him, her eyes wide with fear.

“You’re going to tell me everything I want to know,” he persists. “Now!”

She whimpers in fear. No one is coming to save her. She is alone.

The first lash feels like fire. She screams as it tears into her skin. Her whole body shakes violently and she curls up in a ball on the floor. The tears flow freely as agony fills her soul. Her breaths are short and ragged as he winds up for another blow. Tears freely fall from her face, but she could care less right now. The pain is all consuming.

She lost count of how many times that whip came into contact with her back. The man had left her lying on the ground in the same position he had flogged her in. It felt like her back was on fire. Each lash left behind a fresh set of angry red marks, making her bleed profusely.

The pain eventually fades though, replaced with numbness. By the end, she wasn’t really sure whether the pain was real or not anymore. She felt so detached, almost like she was watching her life from afar.

It didn’t matter. Everything seemed so trivial, even the pain. All she wanted to do was sleep. But she couldn’t. The pain was keeping her awake.

The door opens again, and she isn’t able to hold back her sob. It’s too soon for him to be back. He didn’t even let her recover. Hurting her now would be like kicking a dead horse.

Some muffled curse barely reaches her ears as she goes into a state of hypovolemic shock.

She hears her name being called and confusion wraps around her brain. The man had never used her name before. He always just called her all those stupid pet names. As soon as she saw blond hair and a muscular body, she knew she had to be hallucinating.

No one is coming for her. Not even her best friend Steve Rogers. But he looks so real. If only he were, she muses before passing out.

When she wakes up again, she is in a different room. She feels like crying. Are the punishments going to be worse? How much worse can it get?

But then she realises a few things.

The weight of the collar she had gotten used to is gone. She isn’t bound or tied up in any way. There’s also the steady beeping of a heart monitor next to her.

Blinking her eyes to get adjusted to the daylight, she looks around with a sense of clarity. This place is familiar. It’s a med room. She’s back at the tower. She’s not under the clutches of that man anymore.

She nearly sobs with relief.

turning to look out the window, she is shocked to see Steve sitting by her side. His eyes are shut, and he’s sleeping as best he can in the small chair.

She looks over to the door, wondering how long he has been here. How long has she been unconscious? How long had she been held captive for?

Her mind reels. Everything is a blur. She doesn’t know how long it’s been since the undercover mission, but she guesses it’s been awhile.

She shifts slightly, wincing as the movement hurts. She reaches down rubbing her wrists where the cuffs had chafed her. The man had clearly done his job well; she’s bruised and battered.

His words come back to her. The ones about how she’d be prettier if only she wasn’t marred with scars. She can’t help but worry if the team will think the same. She wouldn’t blame them at all.

A shiver runs up her spine at the thought of having Steve look at her like that. Her heart tightens painfully in her chest.

She looks over to Steve again. He shifts and blinks his eyes open.

They settle on her and he immediately springs up from the chair.

“Hey, honey, do you need anything?” He asks, standing right next to the bed and putting his hand on the bed.

“No.” Her throat feels dry and cracked. “Okay, maybe some water.”

Steve nods and rushes off to get her a glass of water as if he weren’t worried sick about her condition when the last time he saw her she was practically lifeless on the floor of an abandoned building.

He places the glass on the table next to her and helps her sit up straighter. He gives her the glass to drink from before gently pushing her back against the pillow.

"Here."

She gratefully takes a sip, not knowing the last time she had drank anything that wasn’t drugged. “Thank you,” she murmurs, shifting in place. Steve winces upon hearing her whine and seeing her grimace of pain. He can’t imagine how her back must be feeling right now.

“I’m so sorry we didn’t find you sooner. We should have known something was wrong when you didn’t come back from the hallway, I should’ve-”

“Steve, it’s okay. You got him right? The women are safe, aren’t they?” She interrupts him, not wanting him to blame himself for her injuries.

“They’re fine… well as fine as they can be.” He sighs. “None of them got as banged up as you, though.”

She frowns slightly, not understanding why that matters so much. The most important thing is that the women are all safe.

“They’ll get better soon. The doctors said so,” he promises. “You should rest now. Get some sleep. We called for Dr. Cho to get the cradle as soon as possible.”

Nodding her head weakly, she lets him wrap the blanket around her as tightly as possible. He leans over to kiss her forehead and leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. She doesn’t want to rest, though. She’s been asleep for long enough. She just wants to do something.

To do something besides wait for the doctor to return.

She can’t do anything, and she hates it. Her whole body burns from the pain. Every movement seems to cause her physical ache tenfold. Even breathing causes her a great amount of pain. The last thing she needs is to make herself even more nauseous by moving her sore body.

So instead she sits there staring off into space, wishing she had someone or something to keep her occupied.

Luckily, Steve doesn’t take long before he’s back. He’s carrying some lightly buttered toast, not wanting to upset her stomach too much.

“Cho should be here soon.”

She nods as she takes the plate That is offered to her. Steve drags the chair over to her and sits down. Folding his hands together, he stares at them. He’s not sure what to say.

“Do you think scars are ugly?”

Steve’s head pops up. His brows are furrowed at the random question. “What do you mean?”

She sighs. “Do you think my scars make me look ugly?”

She looks up at him and sees the offended look on his face. “You? Ugly? I’m sorry, there has to be a mistake. No woman who looks as beautiful as you could possibly be ugly. I think your face is perfect. Your smile is breathtaking. You’re kind and loving. And everyone loves you because of that. Everyone adores you! They don’t just love your face. They love your personality as well, you know,” he stops his rambling and turns red when he hears her giggles at him. He might have gone a bit overboard. He wishes he could just know when to shut up. He made a fool out of himself.

He clears his throat awkwardly while trying to hide his embarrassment.

“I love your smile,” she says softly, causing his cheeks to grow even warmer.

“Oh. Thank you.” He’s looking away again, trying desperately to keep control of his rapidly beating heart. He’s never been great with girls. Especially pretty girls. She isn’t just pretty, though. She’s breathtaking. The most beautiful girl he’s ever had the privilege of seeing.

Snapping them out of their intimate moment, the door opens to reveal Cho.

Steve bids her fair well, promising to be there when she awakens. She quietly says her own goodbye, hoping that Steve will forget all about that embarrassing comment she made.

When she gets out of the cradle, Steve is sitting with her just as promised. He is drawing in his sketchbook. He looks up when he hears her shift on the bed. His eyes light up, seeing hers looking at him.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Steve asks, setting the book down on the table next to him.

She shrugs, “I’m good. How long have you been here?”

“Too long.” He stretches and yawns. She giggles, knowing full well that he didn’t have to stay but was too stubborn to leave.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Some coffee? I brought some breakfast, I figured you’d want some.”

She shakes her head, not wanting any food. She just knows she would throw up if she were to try to eat anything. “Just a glass of water would be nice.”

He nods. Grabbing the empty pitcher from the nearby table, he goes to the kitchen to fill it up with water.

When he returns, he sets the glass of water on the nightstand and walks over to the bed. He sits down on the edge of the bed and watches her carefully as she gulps down the water. She smiles once she finishes drinking and closes her eyes. She rests her head back against the pillows, her arm still resting over her eyes to protect them.

The silence between them is comforting as Steve continues watching her, wondering what he can do to make her feel better. What he can do to comfort her. What all did that man do to her? He doesn’t want to ask, not wanting her to have to relive any experiences she went through. He’d do anything to help her, though. She deserves that and so much more.

“You wanna watch a movie with me?” She asks. “I never did get my post-mission relaxation in.”

[frankkorzo]

Rules for the Blues

(with thanks to Sue McGrath) 1. Most Blues begin, "Woke up this morning."

2. "I got a good woman," is a bad way to begin the Blues, 'less you stick something nasty in the next line, like "I got a good woman with the meanest face in town."

3. The Blues is simple. After you get the first line right, repeat it. Then find something that rhymes ... sort of: "Got a good woman - with the meanest face in town. Got teeth like Margaret Thatcher - and she weigh 500 pound."

4. The Blues are not about choice. You stuck in a ditch: You stuck in a ditch, ain't no way out.

5. Blues cars: Chevys and Cadillacs and broken down trucks. Blues don't travel in Volvos, BMWs, or Sport Utility Vehicles. Most Blues transportation is a Greyhound bus or a southbound train. Jet aircraft and state-sponsored motor pools ain't even in the running. Walkin' plays a major part in the blues lifestyle. So does fixin' to die.

6. Teenagers can't sing the Blues. They ain't fixin to die yet. Adults sing the Blues. In Blues, adulthood means being old enough to get the electric chair if you shoot a man in Memphis.

7. Blues can take place in New York City, but not in Hawaii or any place in Canada. Hard times in St. Paul or Tucson is just depression. Chicago, St.Louis, and Kansas City still the best places to have the Blues. You cannot have the blues in any place that don't get rain.

8. A man with male pattern baldness ain't the blues. A woman with male pattern baldness is. Breaking your leg cuz you skiing is not the blues.

9. Breaking your leg cuz a' alligator be chomping on it is.

10. You can't have no Blues in an office or a shopping mall. The lighting is wrong. Go outside to the parking lot or sit by the dumpster.

11. Good places for the Blues: a) highway b) jailhouse c) empty bed Bad places:  a) Ashrams b) gallery openings c) Ivy League institutions d) golf  courses

12. No one will believe it's the Blues if you wear a suit, 'less you happen to be a' old black man, and you slept in it.

13. Do you have the right to sing the Blues? Yes, if: a) you're older  than dirt b) you're blind c) you shot a man in Memphis d) you can't be satisfied. No, if: a) you have all your teeth b) you were once blind but now can see c) the man in Memphis lived. d) you have a retirement plan or trust fund.

14. Blues is not a matter of color. It's a matter of bad luck. Tiger Woods cannot sing the blues. Gary Coleman could. Ugly white people also got a leg up on the blues.

15. If you ask for water and Baby give you gasoline, it's the Blues. Other acceptable Blues beverages are: a) bad wine b) bad whiskey or bad bourbon c) muddy water d) black coffee. The following are NOT Blues beverages: a) mixed drinks b) kosher wine c) Snapple d) sparkling water

16. If it occurs in a cheap motel or a shotgun shack, it's a Blues death. Stabbed in the back by a jealous lover is another Blues way to die. So is the  electric chair, substance abuse, and dying lonely on a broken down cot. You can't have a Blues death if you die during a tennis match or getting liposuction.

17. Some Blues names for women: a) Sadie b) Big Mama c) Bessie d) Fat River Dumpling Some Blues names for men: a) Joe b) Willie c) Little Willie d) Big Willie Persons with names like Sierra, Sequoia, and Rainbow can't sing the Blues no matter how many men they shoot in Memphis.

18. Make yer own Blues name (starter kit): name of physical infirmity (Blind, Cripple, Lame, etc.)  first name (see above) plus name of fruit (Lemon, Lime, Kiwi, etc.)  last name of President (Jefferson, Johnson, Fillmore, etc.) For example, Blind Lime Jefferson, or Cripple Kiwi Fillmore, etc.

19. I don't care how tragic your life: you own a computer, you cannot  sing the blues. You best destroy it - with fire, a spilled bottle of Mad Dog, or get out a shotgun. Maybe your big woman just done sat on it. I don't  care.

[still-nix-d-goffic]

Saving this beautiful comment from Reddit user Pktrekgirl.

"Exactly. Ann does not need to settle for a creepy old man. A lot of older women are choosing to stay single and just go on cruises with girlfriends and pursue their hobbies, because they don’t want to deal with these kind of guys.

I mean just read this thread! These kinds of guys are everywhere. 60+ year old fat bald guys who are incredibly, all about looks in a woman.

So staying single is what I’ve decided to do. I’m approaching retirement age and am currently single and will probably remain that way. I’m not ‘looking’ but am instead planning my next phase on my own. I would have been okay with a less than perfect looking man. I have always been more about kindness, intellect and sense of humor anyway. ‘Good hair’ is extremely low on my list. Good character is much higher.

But what is out there are a lot of guys like J. So I’ll pass. I have plenty of money which I earned myself. So I will live in my house or maybe scale back to a condo, read, knit, cook, bake, walk in the neighborhood, play with my dogs, do volunteer work, go to shows with girlfriends, and travel by myself or with girlfriends. There are things I want to try; stuff I want to do. And I can do all of these things without a man. So why put myself thru the humiliating meat market mentality these idiots have NEVER outgrown? I mean, for what? Their sparkling intellect? 🙄 So that I can count their pills for them every morning, do their laundry, and clean up after them?

No. I want something better than that. I want a kind and decent companion or nothing. I want someone who reads, can make conversation that occasionally is not about sports, and who is a fundamentally decent soul. Someone who can make me laugh. If I can’t find that, I’ll pass. And not even think twice about it. I will not settle for someone like J.

I have read that older single women are much happier than older single men. We honestly don’t need them. Especially if we have set ourselves up financially.

They need us a lot more than we need them. They are just too stupid to know that. Still thinking with their dicks, after all these years.

Pathetic."

[kassies-take]

The Other Agent Green

A/N: Hello everyone, this will be the kick start of more Sara Lance images to come.

Warning: ???

Sara Lance x GaryGreenSister!Reader

Word Count: 1072

When rumors went around that Gary Green’s sister was to join the Time Bureau many agents didn’t know whether to run or hide, maybe both. Many agents and legends feared the Bureau would gain another geek, coward and just plain awkward gal.

Ava freaked out, this is what happens when you let Gary be in charge of new hires. She finally came to terms with Gary, and she did not need another Green fantasizing and stalking her. Luckily for her she could put the other Green through series of tests to make sure she doesn’t join the Bureau.

Ava sat at her desk with multiple sighs that escaped her lips. Her office brightened with the artificial light from the Waverider and dimmed back to her office lighting where Sara walked through a time portal.

“When do we get to meet this new Agent Green,” Sara teased.

Ava looked up from her work, threw the pen in her hand somewhere on her desk and glared at her new best friend.

“Not funny, Sara. Gary brought in the new recruits for training. You’re welcome to come.”

“Yeah, got to see this new interm Legend,” Sara smirked which pissed off Ava.

“When did the Bureau train their employees anyways?” Sara questioned as the two walked towards the training facility.

“Since Rip decided to use Bureau men for his personal endeavors and got them all killed,” Ava said casually.

When Sara and Ava entered the training room they searched for any resemblance to Gary. Sara however had her eyes trained on a particular brunette, you, in a sports bar and leggings, who was freerunning on the set obstacle courses. Sara unconsciously bit her lower lip as her eye traveled up and down the girl’s body. Ava couldn’t find the said Green, which she expected to be sitting on the sidelines and rolled her eyes at Sara.

“You’re unbelievable,” Ava crossed her arms. “I can’t find her.”

“Maybe she was too scared to show up,” Sara shrugged.“Meanwhile I’m going to introduce myself.”

“Sara!” Ava harshly whispered and swung her arms down to her side. “Stop fraternizing with the recruits!”

Sara turned with a smirk and a wink and continued towards the brunette who now rested on the bench press.

“Not many people here know how to freerun, neither are they field agents. You on the other hand, look more of my speed,” Sara’s eyes wandered across your body and noticed the Navy dog tags around your neck. “The Navy, huh,” she muttered “I’m Sara, Sar-”

“Sara Lance, I know.” You smiled knowing the fact that Sara probably didn’t know who you were as you placed a towel around your neck.

“You know me?” Sara frowned in confusion.

“Yeah. Captain of the Waverider, White Canary, League of Assassins. You’re pretty famous,” she still had no idea who you were as you held back a laugh.

“Well I didn’t know I’m pretty famous, maybe you would like a private tour of the Waverider from the one and only then.” Sara flirted.

“You have no idea who I am do you,” You said in amusement.

“What do you mean?” Sara frowned.

“I’m (Y/N),” you paused to see if Sara followed, which she didn’t.

“(Y/N)!” Gary waved from the open door with a wide grin on his face.

Ava stood with her hands behind her back, the classic authoritive Bureau stance. The taller blond stopped Gary’s aggressive waving and gave him the ‘start the next training look’.

Gary cleared his throat and clasped his hand together.

“Recruits the next training session awaits you in the next room.”

Sara looked back and forth between you and Gary in disbelief. She made brief eye contact with a shocked Ava before she was pulled from her thoughts.

“(Y/N) Green,” you placed out your hand for her to shake.

Sara shook your hand still in shock, “You’re (Y/N) Green, but you’re lik-”

“Badass, cool and nothing like Gary?” You interrupted. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“I was gonna say hot, but all those works too.”

You smiled at her as the rest of the recruits began to exit the room, and leaned closer to Sara’s ear as you walked past.

“Oh if the offer still stands, I would love a private tour.” You smirked before you gave Ava a nod of acknowledgement followed by a light punch to Gary’s shoulder and headed out the door to the next training session.

Gary rubbed his shoulder and once you were completely out the door and out of earshot, Sara’s and Ava’s faces returned to their Directoral and Captain faces.

“Dammit Gary! Why didn’t you tell me you’re sister was hot,” Sara growled.

“Well, in my defense you never asked. Plus (Y/N) really wanted to see people’s reaction when they found out we were related, which I have to say is a bit offending. Nonetheless I still love her, dad sent her to bootcamp for three months cause she was a delinquent and she just retired as a Navy Seal. Anyways I should see how the new recruits are doing,” Gary bumped his other shoulder on the door as he exited.

This left Sara and Ava in the room surprised.

“So that makes her around 38, if she served an active duty for a period of 20 years and started at 18.” Sara calculated In which Ava took the opportunity to tease Sara.

“Hey Mrs. Green, stop drooling. She’s only a year older than me, and you’ve slept with women older than that before,” Ava earned a punch from Sara.

“Time travel remember, so technically they were around the same age rage.”

“Yeah that doesn’t stop the fact that you slept with the Queen of France,” Ava patted Sara’s back and walked out.

Though the training lasted a period of two weeks, Sara always found excuses to stop by the Bureau. By the end of the training, you were a Bureau agent for another two weeks before Sara stole you as a Legend. Ava wasn’t all that happy as she lost one of her best agents, Sara on the other hand wouldn’t give up the chance to rub it in Ava’s face.

As a Legend it was no doubt that Sara has developed feelings for you, that isn’t pure lust. She even went as far as to ask Gary your likes and dislikes. She planned a little date in the 1980s but of course nothing ever went according to plan and you two ended up fighting time pirates.

Eventually after much convincing to go to the MedBay from your Captain, you finally got that private tour Sara promised on your first meeting.

[loyolahcmass]

Homily on Kobe Bryant

Here is the preview of Fr. Rossi’s homily on Kobe Bryant:

Remembering Kobe                           “To whichever you choose,                             Stretch forth your hand.”                                                                 Book of Sirach I dislike the cult of celebrity. I don’t care whom stars are dating or divorcing, or what they wear or for whom they plan to vote. I often feel alienated from public rituals of grief over deaths of the famous. __________ But this time, it’s different. This time—with that death in a Calabasas helicopter crash on Sunday morning January 26. With the death of retired Los Angeles Laker legend Kobe Bryant, along with eight others, including Gianna, his 13-year-old daughter—I feel a personal loss. __________ I sort of like basketball, but I’m not wild about it. But I seriously started watching Bryant years ago. Of course, his athleticism was extraordinary, but what really captured my attention was the ease and grace of his play. __________ He was like a dancer, executing moves that, given their complexity, seemed choreographed. Bryant often accomplished the seemingly impossible on the court, and like all masters of a craft, he appeared to do so effortlessly. It was genuinely thrilling to see him in his element. Just watch highlight clips of Bryant and focus on the faces in the stands: the expressions are often awe-struck, of stupefaction at whatever remarkable athletic feat he had just performed. __________ Other aspects of Bryant’s life, beyond basketball, had a special salience for me as well. Like me, Bryant was a Roman Catholic, but he was also trying to raise his kids in the faith. And like all of us, Bryant was a sinner. __________ Most notoriously, in 2003, he was arrested after being accused by a young woman of rape. He maintained that he had had consensual sex with her, but apologized to her publicly, acknowledging that she saw it differently, and settled out of court. It was an ugly, and career-threatening, incident, and it must remain a factor in reckoning with Bryant’s life and career. __________ Yet so must Bryant’s response. On the brink of divorce from his wife, Vanessa, he leaned hard on his faith. He fought for his marriage, publicly crediting a priest with helping him to save it. __________ As he got older, Bryant clearly relished being a “girl Dad” to his four daughters. He was especially devoted to helping Gianna achieve her dream of carrying on his legacy on the court. When I found out that Gianna had died with him, I felt physically ill and disoriented. __________ I’m a theology professor. Academics tend to signal their disinterest in sports, as if sports were unworthy of our more enlightened attention. This attitude reveals a failure of perception, for sports can be like art, which, as Iris Murdoch, the novelist and Christian philosopher, attests, “affords us a pure delight in the independent existence of what is excellent” and is for that reason opposed to more selfish pursuits. __________ Moreover, it’s human to delight in what is excellent and to want to imitate it. Bryant inspired a generation of young men and women to dedicate themselves to a particular form of excellence. But he became worthy of aspiration and imitation beyond basketball because his loves became more properly ordered. __________ In retirement, he devoted himself to his family, to the dreams of his daughters, and to God. Indeed, he had taken communion with Gianna before they embarked on their fateful flight. He died with her on his way to coach her basketball team. He had also talked to the priest after that mass about his Confirmation RCIA. __________ A few hours later, Bryant headed out with Gianna, one of the great loves of his life. In the air, they perished. It just doesn’t seem fair. __________ But life is neither fair nor merited; it’s a gift from God. Kobe’s prodigious athletic talents were also a gift. We admired him because he took his gifts and fashioned from them forms of excellence that we never imagined before he revealed them to us. __________ His celebrity was rooted in that peculiar alchemy he created on the court, but his excellence extended beyond it. Unlike many celebrities, he was not devoted to fame and attention for its own sake. For all these reasons he was deeply loved, as is apparent from the continuing widespread mourning of his loss. __________ We’ve lost a lot more than a basketball legend—and we feel it. We’ve lost a father and a daughter whose deep love for one another was unmistakable. I’m not ashamed to admit that I feel a tremendous sadness over it. And hope! __________ Why? Because Kobe and I had something in common. He was a sinner who was striving toward redemption and his God.                         “Because you called me,                         I did everything for you.”                                                     Kobe Bryant, “Dear Basketball” So am I.

[coochiequeens]

Thanks to gender ideology a dude who didn't sign up while there was still spaces left in the men's category was able to sign up to compete in the women's category. And he won leaving with prize earmarked for a woman while if he did run in the men's category he would have come in 55th.

By Nuria Muíña García February 2, 2024

A man claiming to be “gender fluid” has won the women’s category of a mountain race in Spain, signing up after there were no more spaces left in the men’s category. Quim Durán Pradas, who lives his day-to-day life as a man, says running makes him feel “feminine.”

La Cursa de NaDalt is a chrono-climbing race held annually in December in Catalonia, and its most recent iteration, held on December 26 of 2023, was its 13th anniversary. The race, which starts in Sant Pere de Torelló and ends at the Sanctuary of Bellmunt, is a short but challenging event, and consists of a spectacular route of trails and climbs of 3,862 meters with a positive elevation gain of 620 meters.

In true Spanish fashion — once at the finish line, every racer gets a glass of sparkling wine, something to eat, and to finish it off, hot chocolate.

But the results of the most recent race sparked outrage in Spain after it was discovered that a 48-year-old male had won the top prize in the women’s category.

Speaking to La Vanguardia, sources from the event’s organizing committee explained that the initial outburst had begun at the awards ceremony, where several people broke out into an argument.

Among them was Quim Durán Pradas, a 48-year-old male runner who was seen at the awards ceremony wearing makeup, earrings, and a ponytail.

“[He] was saying that [he] had won in the women’s category and that [he] had every right to be recognized. As an organization, we were caught off guard. There had never been a case like this in previous editions,” explained sources from within the Centre Excursionista Serragrenyada, organizer of the event.

Durán Pradas reportedly threatened to sue the event if he was not provided the prize he claimed he had earned — a pricey leg of cured Iberian ham from Beher Red Label. The prize’s value could range anywhere from €100 to €500 (approx. $107 to $540 USD) depending on the weight of the leg.

Due to his threats and aggression, the event organizers attempted to accommodate him, noting that it was “a bit of a tense situation.” Durán Pradas ended up receiving a provisional victory in the women’s general category. When he stood to receive his ham, there was booing in the audience.

The fastest female, Laia Montoya, had previously taken the top spot in the race in 2022 and 2023. Though she had been booted out of earning the top prize by Durán Pradas, the organizers sent her a box of Iberian ham anyway out of apparent acknowledgement of the unfairness of the situation.

Durán Pradas would have come in 55th place had he participated in the men’s category.

On Instagram, the race’s organizing committee issued a statement explaining “the ethical, moral and philosophical dilemma” they faced.

“We want to show our support and the utmost tolerance, solidarity, and empathy towards gender-vulnerable people,” they wrote. “However, at the same time we also want to underline that the NaDalt race has always tried to promote women’s sport, because historically it has been discriminated and less visible.”

Yesterday, Durán Pradas appeared on Más Espejo, a popular Spanish morning show, where he explained that he is a “gender fluid” athlete who feels “feminine” when he is running in natural environments, but “masculine” at all other times. He is not on any hormone therapy, and does not intend to seek out any surgeries.

“I am gender fluid, and when I run in the mountains, I feel like a woman, I feel like the other female runners,” he said. “I have been to an inclusive psychologist who told me that this is not a disorder. I am simply a person who, depending on the situations, is gender fluid. In my day-to-day life, at home when I’m with my children, I feel like a man. In my leisure time, in contact with nature, I feel like a woman.”

On the program, Durán Pradas stated that he wanted to educate audiences about gender fluidity, also noting that he had previously felt too scared to participate in a women’s category but decided to finally take the risk after being informed there were no slots left in the men’s category. He described the situation as La Cursa de NaDalt “putting [the opportunity] on a platter” for him.

He refused to accept questions from the presenter and the rest of the morning show’s panel, deeming them too “argumentative” to respond to. He then complained he was being subjected to a “hate crime” after one of the panelists accused him of “cheating” for running without having altered his testosterone levels.

“I thought this was going to go well for me, and you just won’t let me justify my position,” Durán Pradas said. “People who do not understand [gender fluidity] and ridicule it as you are ridiculing it… it can become a hate crime.”

[realmetaphysics]

496c bhokotshiki Street

Zone 4 Meadowlands

SOWETO

6 July 2021 6:24

Manupstairs Rise South Africa

We are an organisation that is raised and born from the township called Soweto.. The name sounds like the question So where too? And it's a very good question indeed.. Now that we have gone so far back plagued with so much sociatal issues, where to now? What do we do for our future? Not only thinking of the youth but the pensioner and unemployed adult over 35 years too.. What about the disabled individual who can work but doesn't get a chance to prove that they are very able to add to our society.. What about the elder who is still a dreamer is it fair to bottle them in a spaza shop or garden?

Can't we as a society carry and grow with our people and teach them new ways like working with technology and teaching our children about the values of life?

We have had our challenges growing up and still have to carry some of these challenges in our young adult lives..

Challenges such as malnutrition, unemployment, illiteracy and mental health are our everyday  reality.

Unfortunately or fortunately we had to grow up and be decisive about our social dillema and choose to put our lives on a brief pause for others who were challenged like us. Especially those who see no light at the end of the tunnel who feel that hell is earth..

The philosophy is that if our society is I'll it means we too will be infected by the challenges facing them.

E.g : If boy child is hungry and lacks clothes and things necessary to keep him thinking as a child and enjoying childhood. He will begin to have the wrong friends who have found comfort in depressants and suppressants like drugs and alcohol.. These boys eventually become a gang of thieves and steal from people they feel are privileged than them..

E.g 2: The girl child who has the same circumstances as the latter starts to make a plan to look for comfort and food by selling their bodies to older men and can't focus at school because of not being to afford even a sanitary towel.. Soon she becomes pregnant and the cycle continues..

E.g 3: An elder reaches retirement and comes to a home where all the children are either working or married or have passed on. He/she has pride to ask for assistance,when they need to go to the clinic since there's no localor money runs out they end up losing hopefitness or health club and get sick quicker and pass on from mental illness not natural death.. It's a very sad way to die..

E.g 4: A so-called physically impaired future engineer. Is shut Out from being a productive member because of the way they look.. Years of discrimination, prejudice and apartheid leads them to suicide and mental illness. As their heartache is accompanied by experiments and years of medical drugging..

E.g 4: A illiterate school drop out robs a good working graduate on his way to work and sometimes even kills the bread winner due to the fact that he doesn't have enough information about Abet schools he becomes an offender.

We seek to fight the community's many challenges so that we can have a healthy society and eco-friendly environment...

In a healthy community people help each other, people empower one another.

Communism will promote comeradry, a safe community, an educated youth, fit and healthy adults and a warm home...

The plan is to ignite the community in frank talks about issues challenging elders, youth, young adults and women.. As well as the lgbti community..

We are a people that believe we can. That are led by the Holy Spirit of faith, love and hope.

We are a collective that understands the hierarchy we as black people are facing, and have decided to drive the future of our community ourselves. We wish to get like minded selfless people in the community, private sector and government to see this vision coming to pass and we are willing to fix and die for the future of our children and those who believe in us.

Our world is sick and we who have broken it will fix it again. How, by planting trees which will help us get food and clean the environment.

Through mass education and unrelenting education we can create jobs by learning 4IR (4th industrial revolution) I and putting our community in favor of the forever developing world.

Backyard gardening and selling of the produce to the mainstream as a community.

We will teach children arts and craft, computer literacy from the age of 7 years and teaching te society healthy living through participation in sports and for young adults and youth having bootcamp and fitness gyms.

We seek to be the ears and eyes of opportunities. We envision to be the information hub and lure other community builder to be more active by continuously work shopping and make a forum with them through memorandum of understanding .. The link between the government, private businesses and the haven for drug addicts and alcoholics.

We will teach the women and children how to handle and tackle GBV and give them a voice.

When we fill the community with goodness and hope mixed with communism and patriotism it will automatically help with crime.

Co-Founder and Chairperson

Thando Khumalo..

[austinpanda]

Dad Letter 032121

21 March, 2021

Dear Dad--

Happy Sunday to you. I got the casino job! Well, I provisionally got the casino job! They’ve decided they’d like to “move forward,” and are now going to crawl up my butt with a microscope and make sure that I’m not someone with a shady past or nefarious intentions. I had to fill out a very long application to be a licensed gaming employee in the state, and I had to answer a question about whether I am a fugitive from justice! I will be fingerprinted at some point. I had to give a list of identifying scars and tattoos. I had to consult the internet to find my eye color because I don’t know what damn color my eyes are. (The internet indicated that my eyes are either blue, blue-gray, green, gray-green, blue-green, hazel, or gray, which I think is just about all of them.) I take it for granted that I may be working in the casino, or taking a break and sitting somewhere eating a sandwich, and someone might push a cart past me with a million dollars on it. Whenever that’s the case, I assume my employers will have real firm opinions about how money is handled, and security, and making sure the employees aren’t wanted felons, etc.

So I did okay on the phone interview, except for the question about Microsoft Excel, which is the industry standard for making spreadsheets. So I brushed up on Excel, to make sure I’d be able to answer the question if it came up again. He brought it up again, and I was able to answer the question correctly this time. This established that I am both conscientious and resourceful, dammit. They pointed out a few nice things about working there. Firstly, they have food events, where I can come and eat. Second, they have an enormous parking garage. This is mostly to benefit the customers, but it also means you won’t end a long day of work and have to remove a foot of snow from your car before you can go home. They also said that, if I was done working and it was snowing so hard that it wasn’t safe to go home, they could give me a room in the hotel for the night.

As I may have mentioned, this job is all about doing audits and other daily tasks to, I guess, make sure all the dollars are present and correct and law-abiding. I’m a compliance person! Assuming I sail through all the background stuff, I’ll help make sure the casino is in compliance with federal this and local that and state this and corporate that. They’ll train me. I predict several possible outcomes.

1. Within my first week, I have a heart attack while at work, causing me to fart loudly and repeatedly. It becomes known as Rick’s Fart Attack, and after recovering, I can never look anyone in the eye again, and I have to leave the company in shame. Also I’ll be unable to understand or remember anything they try to teach me. And they find out that I tried acid back in 1990.

2. I do okay, everyone is satisfied, I work there till I’m 70 and retire. No Nobel Prize for Compliance, but no fart attacks.

3. I do exceptionally well. I learn the stuff as quickly as they expect me to. I am able to achieve the accuracy they seek. They appreciate my pragmatism and my bourgeois sweaters. I become a valuable asset to them; they seem to like me. Next time my birthday comes around, at the cake cutting, no fewer than six people slip me folded pieces of paper saying they appreciate my work style, and my George Clooney salt and pepper hair, and would I like to visit the casino bar for a pre-coital alcoholic beverage, and then get a good hard auditing from Rick, the new compliance guy, just in case I’m interested.

I really don’t know what outcome I’m going to achieve here. Obviously, the work isn’t going to be too action-packed. It’s auditing, and I’m told to expect repetition. (That’s good; I take comfort in shit like that.) I just hope I don’t screw up anything I can’t fix, and they’re good at training, and that, in the end, I’ll have a workplace I don’t dread going to. I’ll like my coworkers, maybe make a new friend or two. I’ll make enough money that I can pay rent and not have to eat cat food.

I wonder how long it’s going to take them to figure out that I have no aptitude for either drinking or gambling, I make sports bets about as often as I fly in the space shuttle, and I have no idea at all how craps works. The last time I went into a casino, I got $20 in quarters from a cashier before I learned that none of the slot machines take quarters any more. They took money straight off your debit card! Then you carried a balance, and when you wanted to leave one slot machine, it would print a little ticket that you could feed into the next slot machine that kept track of your balance. I had to take all my quarters back to the cashier and explain that I was an idiot, and could you take all these stupid quarters back, pretty please? That was in the Snoqualmie Casino in Washington State. (Their motto: We don’t know how to pronounce your name, either, tough guy) I didn’t win shit, but Zach won about a hundred bucks.

I filled out all my paperwork, including the 30-page gaming application, and some similar online forms. I need to go back in to get my photo taken and to get fingerprinted, but they are going to wait until the background check is done, so I’m just in a holding pattern now. Making sure I can dress in business casual for five days in a row without repeating pants (I cannot! Must attempt to increase my rate of, you know, pants. Fortunately, Zach and I have the same waist size and he’s given me a couple of pairs of work slacks he no longer needs.) Also I keep waiting to throw up. I always experience my tension in my stomach. It seems to happen every time I’m nervous about something, so...any time, sweetheart. Perhaps my body is waiting for the morning of Day 1. I shall remain vigilant.

I have to say, I felt comfortable in the casino offices where I had my interviews and started the HR shit. Since it’s called the Hollywood Casino, the theme is movies, so all the walls have framed movie posters in them. I saw a poster for The Manchurian Candidate. The guy who interviewed me was named Rick, and was a doughy, bespectacled honky like myself. When I got the job at Penquis, and I went in for training, I was in a room with a dozen women and no other men. I’m fine with that in theory, but in practice, it leaves me feeling a bit like a stranger in a strange land. Everyone at the casino looked like me, in a way I found reassuring, whether younger, or older, or female. I just felt a bit more at home there. Hope that feeling lasts. Also this pays better than the Penquis job did.

Not sure what I’m going to do today. Because I’m about to start a new job, it should make my remaining hours at home more special, which usually results in me cleaning something that doesn’t get cleaned as often as it should, like the bathtub. Also, we keep getting overflown by bald eagles, and I’m determined to get a picture of one. This is going to end up being a lot more difficult than it was to photograph a hummingbird, even though the eagle is so much bigger and slower. Hummingbirds like to come to my hummingbird feeder and light for a few seconds, during which you can snap a few easy photographs. We’ve seen a dozen bald eagles, but they’re always flying past, on their way somewhere. Sometimes they’re being harassed by groups of other birds. I need an eagle to stop by for a visit and sit someplace, photogenically, for a minute before it leaves, so I can get a few pictures. Otherwise it’s just going to be a picture of a sky with a little black smudge in it. I’m leaving the camera by the living room window.

I think that having this new job, assuming I pass everything, is going to take a lot of my stress away. As is usual, a lot of my stress stems from the fact that I was never very good at making and holding onto money. But once I get a paycheck or two from the casino, I believe it will feel like I’ve finally completed moving to Maine. After living here for a year and a half, I think this will make the circle complete. I won’t just be here with all my stuff, but I’ll be financially self-sufficient again, not living off savings, a proper grownup again, for the first time in Maine. Perhaps this will enable me to spend a bit more time looking forward, and making plans. I’m already considering one plan: This job starts part time, but is expected to become full time, once things pick up from all the Covid bullshit. I’m not looking forward to 40 hour work weeks again, but once I’m doing that, I think I’d like to get a new car. I’ve never bought a brand new car. I think it’s time I did.

By the next time I write, I may have started working at the new job! Oh, I have already received one email from the company doing the background check asking me, “Do you also go by the following name, and/or is this you? Rick E. Weidmann.” So I guess they found you when doing my background check! I assured them that we were two different people, and they seemed satisfied with that.

All my love to you both!

[coochiequeens]

https://torontosun.com/news/local-news/warmington-female-rugby-players-complain-trans-opponent-hits-too-hard

Female rugby players are not used to feeling like they have been hit by a bus on the field. Or a truck.

A veteran female rugby player, who plays for the Stoney Creek Camels senior women’s team, said she was hit so hard in a recent game, it felt like a man delivering the tackle.

This transgender player, known as Ash — said to have registered as a non-binary person who identifies as female — stands about 5-foot-10 and weighs up to 220 pounds. 

“We are women,” said a female player on the receiving end of a tackle. “It’s a whole other thing playing rugby against men.” 

Or one who used to be — especially one of that size, who is also said to have been an MVP at the men’s level just last season. 

“I had never been hit like that before, even at the competitive women’s level,” said the player. “There was so much more brute force. There are women who are bigger than him, but no girl hits like that. This is a strong human.” 

“The player is a nice person, but that is not the point,” said the female player. “We are now at a disadvantage.”

This story has sparked a lot of discussion within the rugby community – many comparing it to the Leah Thomas swimming issue in the United States. But as one female player pointed out, competitive swimmers have their own lane and there are no collisions. In rugby, it’s all collisions, all the time. She said Ash’s legs are massive and strong, and “you feel the hits from (them) the next day.”

Diana Murphy a friend of some of the players, tweeted: “Three women’s rugby players had to be removed from a game and treated for injuries from hits sustained by a transwoman” and that she feels “Trans have no place in women’s sports.” Rugby Canada said there were no illlegal hits, but sources in the game said Ash received a yellow card from the referee for a hit to the head of one female player. Ash was pulled from the game. Players said they are not clear whether it was at the insistence of the referee or the Fergus coach. Either way, Rugby Canada said this is a federal inclusion issue and not only is this transgender player welcomed in the league, but the law protects that person from discrimination.

“We are aware of the matter in question but would advise that Rugby Canada has received no formal complaints,” said Managing Director Tania Richards. “All rugby played in Canada abides by federal government laws which regulates inclusion in sports."

She said there were no players hurt and there were no illegal hits as has been suggested on social media. What there has been, said Richards, is online harassment of the transgender player. The Fergus club has not yet responded, but has forwarded our request to speak with Ash. Meanwhile, there are some players who feel they should not have to play against someone who was recently considered male, but are afraid to reveal their identities for fear of being targeted or cancelled themselves.

All sides use the word “complicated” when talking about this matter. Rugby Ontario sent a communique to members, saying “for those who attended Sunday’s board meeting, you are aware of some concerns that have arisen about player safety in the context of a transplayer playing in club games” and “we are working closely with Rugby Canada senior staff on the matter and are together developing action and communication plans, informed by the counsel of their third-party crisis management PR agency.” They also asked, “if you are contacted by anyone in the community or the media, please do not engage by offering any opinion or comment on the situation.” What they don’t seem to be doing is fully accepting there are some female players who don’t feel comfortable going up against a transitioning opponent in a physical sport where size and strength play a role. One player said the collision she had with trans player Ash was unlike any other impact she has felt in all her years playing rugby.

[childfreetanya]

Misconceptions About Being Childfree

Anyone that knows me, knows I am all about the C word – Choice! I am advocate for women (and men) to be able to make choices in life that are right for them and for making your own rules.

One thing that really pisses me off is when people jump to conclusions about childfree people. There is a stereotype that is perpetuated (mainly by parents, the media & Hollywood) of what childfree people are about.

It is great to see this conversation being presented in mainstream media and I am grateful that it is however it is important that the media is also getting their facts straight. I was recently included in a magazine article and the number of errors and misquotes in the article made me question journalistic integrity. Does anyone fact check anymore?

Then I scrolled down to the comments and can see that even after reading the article, many people still didn’t get the point. And don’t start me on the uneducated comments made from parents (who have no problem with articles about mums but took offense to us decadent childfree people being featured)

So, let me clear up some misconceptions:

Childfree is different to childless

Childfree is a choice, childless is due to circumstance! The conversation you have with someone who has chosen to not have kids and one who cannot, is very different yet so many journalists fail to get the distinction between the two. I am always correcting people when they refer to me as childless. I am not! I particularly don’t like it as, being in my late 40’s, I have tolerated the assumption that I cannot have kids by other women, and fight against this misconception daily.

And please be mindful that women who are childless are dealing with emotions and issues that are very different to as childfree women.

We are not all rich

Yes, we might go on lots of holidays, or buy expensive shoes, eat out regularly at nice restaurants and buy nice things but we are not rich. We just spend our money in different ways to you. We don’t have to spend money on school fees, toys, sports gear, childcare, food etc and can instead spend it on things that we want in our life.

I’ve been told by family members that I don’t need any extra money because I don’t have kids so therefore, I am rolling in it. I’d like to show them my bank account statement.

Let me remind all the parents that I have never gotten one cent from the government as child endowment, baby bonus or tax savings like you.

We are not all career-obsessed

I love running my business and have always held a strong identity closely related to my career, rather than being identified as a mother. However not every childfree person is career-obsessed so the stereotype needs to stop. If I want to spend more time on my business or at work, that is my choice. Just like you choose to spend your time with your kids.

Calling all childfree women career-obsessed is another untruth and is like saying all parents don’t work. We all do what is right for us.

We don’t all hate children

I do enjoy spending time with my real and adopted nieces and nephews. I value being able to share life experiences and provide a different perspective to their parents. I love being the Rockstar aunty whom they fight over for attention.

I don’t, however, enjoy kids on planes, in nice restaurants or running around shopping centres. But that is just bad manners and poor parenting.

Sure, there are some people that don’t like kids at all and some that love them (just like parents who don’t like other people’s kids).

We are no more selfish than parents

I will never understand why choosing to be childfree is any more selfish than wanting kids. Keyword being ‘want’. Statements like I want you to make me a grandparent, I want a son who looks like me or I want a little girl who I can dress up, are all very selfish reasons for having a child.

And what about statements like a child will look after me when I am older, and I will have true love and – both not guaranteed at all.  I know many people who do not look after older parents.

We don’t want to take up the slack for parents in the workplace

When I worked in the corporate world, I used to hate the expectation that I would stay back or pick up the slack from mums in the office. I had side projects and other passions that were important to me, yet they weren’t recognised as real reasons for not being able to work back, because they were personal and not parenting.

And BTW, my dogs are just as important to me as your kids! So if you can time off because your child is sick, why can’t I do the same for a sick dog?

We don’t expect tax-payers to pay for our retirement

This comment dumbfounds me. I don’t understand why someone would even bring it up. Perhaps because they are getting handouts from the government or other people to help them live. Every person (childfree or not) should be planning on self-funding their retirement. Parents should not expect their kids to look after them in old age or to fund that either.

These comments are simply uneducated and unfounded in any fact. If the people that make them, did their research they would see that people with kids are a much larger drain on the government coffers.

If you are going to make statements and assumptions about childfree people, then get your facts straight. We are all different, just like all parents are different. Stereotypes are exactly that, so please educate yourself before making hurtful or disparaging comments. We need to dispel these misconceptions and show the true picture about our childfree lives.

Find out why more women are choosing to be childfree in the book> https://childfreehappilyeverafter.com.au/a-childfree-happily-ever-after/

[bigyack-com]

In Sonepat, women wrestlers breaking barriers on the mat - other sports

Till a week before the national selection trials for the Tokyo Olympics qualifier, Sonam Mallik was not even a starter. Sonam, just 18, had never competed at the senior level. Yet her coach, Ajmer Malik, knew she was ready—what she needed was an opportunity. Ajmer convinced the Wrestling Federation of India to give her that chance. Yet, even for Ajmer, what happened next was unexpected: Sonam went on to cause a sensational upset, beating the Rio Olympics bronze medallist Sakshi Malik to seal her place in the Indian team.This week, she will be at her first major tournament, the Asian Wrestling Championships from February 18-23.Sonam represents a bold new change. She comes from Sonepat district in Haryana, a fast urbanising area that borders Delhi. The area is famed for producing some of India’s finest international wrestlers. So far, those wrestlers were all men. India’s Olympic training centre for wrestling, located in Sonepat, is also meant only for men. Till very recently, none of the hundreds of akhadas in Sonepat admitted women trainees. That is now changing. Sonam, who comes from a village called Madina, learnt her wrestling at Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose Academy in Gohana, a town in Sonepat. The academy was started by her coach Ajmer in 2012, at a time when not a single akhada in the entire district allowed women. Following in Ajmer’s footsteps, several centres have now opened their doors to women, and three new centres are exclusively female.In Rathdhana village, a half-an-hour drive from Delhi’s border with Haryana, a maze of concrete lanes leads to Mamta Modern Sr. Sec. School. Five years back, Rajesh Saroha, a former wrestler, left his job with an insurance company to set up the women-only akhada here. Girls on their training run weave through the bylanes every morning. Around 15km away is another women’s centre, the Yudhvir Rana akhada, on the outskirts of a village called Kakroi. Another 20 minutes drive from Kakroi, and you will be at Barwasni, where there’s a third dedicated girls’ wrestling academy located at Geetanjali Sr. Secondary School. Over 120 athletes train at these three centres. Four girls from the Barwasni academy won medals at the U-23 Asian Women’s Wrestling Championships in Mongolia in March last year. Ajmer’s centre at Madina village trains both boys and girls. A retired Army subedar and a former wrestler, Ajmer built his academy entirely on his own steam, investing all his savings and doing a lot of the construction work himself. The academy features coaching in two disparate sports—wrestling and tennis. The six clay courts at the academy came up as Ajmer’s son Ajay followed tennis passionately. Ajay made it to the India junior Davis Cup team. Ajmer trains the wrestlers himself, and employs a tennis coach.“I have been a wrestler and I have competed in eight nationals. Earlier, there were hardly any facilities for girls in the district but now there are good training centres and youngsters are making use of the platform,” said Ajmer.Three girls from his centre are medallists at the national cadet championships.“These girls are fearless and they dream about winning medal at the Olympics,” he said. “Sonam is the first talent I came across a year after I opened the centre. She is not scared when she is on the mat and is always looking to attack.”Sakshi, the pioneerRajesh Saroha, who runs the Khadkhoda academy, said Sonam’s victory over the famous Sakshi will spark even greater interest in women’s wrestling in the area.“Seven years ago it was difficult even to field a 10-member girls team from Sonepat in a state competition,” Saroha said. “Now the scenario has changed. There is intense competition in each weight category and sometimes as many as 20 wrestlers fight for one place.”Sakshi’s 2016 Rio bronze was itself a catalyst for change, as was the movie Dangal, released the same year. Saroha said parents started to show more and more interest in introducing their daughters to the mat. Saroha’s daughter and his son are wrestlers. Saroha’s niece Aarti won a silver medal at the U-15 Asian Championships in Taichung City in Chinese Taipei in November.“We started with our own daughters, and after the girls started winning medals, the villagers have started taking interest,” said Saroha’s brother Balbir, who runs the school.“Initially, there were few girls and they had to train with the boys. It did not go well with the villagers but now there are no problems,” said Balbir.Now Saroha’s akhada not only has girls from Khadkhoda, but also from neighbouring states, for whom Saroha has built a hostel. It accomodates 10 girls, but Saroha has plans to expand the capacity to 60.Sunita, a wrestling coach from Haryana Sports Authority, is also posted at the centre.“Having a woman coach at the centre gives confidence to the parents that their daughter is in a safe environment,” said Sunita, who had trained to be a wrestler alongside Sakshi at Rohtak. She became a coach in 2014, and was appointed to Khadkhoda only in 2019.“Earlier, girls had to go to Jind, or Hisar or Rohtak. There was not a single akhada for girls in Sonepat. But things have changed now, especially after Sakshi’s 2016 medal. It is in these small centres that you can find talent,” she said.Girls more focusedAt the senior intra-state championship in Hisar this year, the district finished second. One of the reasons why coaches here think concentrating on girls pays more is because they are more focused than boys.“Girls are more sincere and they single-mindedly work towards their goals. They do not have distractions and in five years (of training) they are ready for senior international meets,” said Sunita.Saroha had a roadmap when he opened the centre—which features a large indoor hall with three mats and salvaged weight training equipment—and the girls are ticking off all the boxes.“My goal was to have our trainees in sub-junior international meets within five years,” he said. “Aarti is already there and representing the country in U-15 tournaments. There are others girls who are in the line.”He has set his sights on Aarti competing at the 2022 Commonwealth Games. The teenager has already sparred with one of the world’s top wrestlers in her category (53kg)—Vinesh Phogat. Phogat’s husband, wrestler Somveer Rathi, is from Kharkhoda, and she trained here in the village before the 2019 World Championships, where she won a bronze.Aarti grew up idolising her wrestler uncle, and Saroha encouraged her interest in the sport.“I have always liked wrestling. My tau (uncle) wanted to be an international wrestler but he could not,” Aarti said. “I want to live his dreams.”Aarti has been living the exacting, monastic life of the wrestler since she was eight. It involves waking up at 4 in the morning six days a week for a morning training session. Then comes school. A siesta later, it’s back on the mat in the evening.“We hardly get time for anything else other than wrestling and studying. Han, kabhi kabhi shaitani kar lete hain (sometimes we play pranks, of course),” says the class 9 student. “And sometimes we watch wrestling on TV. I have seen Vinesh and Sakshi’s fights,” says Aarti.Three years back she decided to cut her hair close to the scalp.“The hair used to come in front and it was irritating to remove it every time while wrestling,” Aarti said. “My friends asked me, ‘why did you do that?’ I said, kushti karni hai to kuch to karna padega (you have to make some sacrifices if you want to wrestle).”When Aarti won the sub-junior trials in Lucknow last year and made it to the team for the Asia Cadet Championships in Kazakhstan, it was a big moment for the centre. It was also a big personal moment for Aarti to watch the world outside Mamta Modern School and Sonepat. In Kazakhstan, her first international tournament, Aarti was overwhelmed by the occasion. She felt transported to a different world—the big indoor hall, the lights and the noise was unlike anything she had seen before. “Everything was new for me,” she said. “I was nervous in the beginning. I had never seen so many wrestlers together. I lost my first bout to a Japanese girl.”A family endeavourNot far off in Rathdhana village, the Yudhvir Rana wrestling centre is packed with girls in the evening inside a spacious indoor hall. This is one of the best equipped schools in the region, with two wrestling mats, residential facilities, a well-appointed gym, volleyball and basketball courts, and a traditional earthen akhada.“We also have a kitchen garden spread over 600 yards for organic farming,” said Devi Singh, a former wrestler who runs the school with his two sons and daughters-in-law.The 65-year-old former wrestler takes pride in spotting the small piece of land last year in January. “A Delhi businessman badly wanted money and was ready to give it at a throwaway price. It turned out to be a good bargain,” Singh recalls.The Singh family is into wrestling. His younger son Yudhvir represents the Indian Army, and older son Kuldeep Rana is an international wrestler. Both Yudhvir’s wife Samiksha and Kuldeep’s wife Seema are former national level wrestlers, and both coach at the centre. Kuldeep too is a coach at the centre, which has already seen one of their girls win a bronze at the World Cadets in 2019.Just a few years earlier, this would have been unthinkable in Sonepat, where only the men in the family were free to go into wrestling, but not the women.Now the women here talk of their target—the Olympics.“I saw Sushil Kumar, and saw Sakshi didi win in Rio,” says Sonam. “Since then I have been working hard because I want to win a medal at the Olympics.” Read the full article

[soccerdrawings]

What You Should Wear To Soccer Ball Sizes For Age Groups | Soccer Ball Sizes For Age Groups

Studies accept apparent a adequate articulation amid repetitive branch of the brawl in soccer and developing a acoustic ache afterwards in life. Will it advance to a ban on the accomplishment in adolescent players?

Soccer Ball Sizes: The Official & Standard Size for Men and .. | soccer ball sizes for age groups Heading of a soccer brawl has been banned in the United States at the under-10 level, and branch convenance is bound to aloof 30 account per anniversary in the under-11 and under-12 age groups. Barry Austin/Getty Nicole Setterlund was 12 aback she suffered her aboriginal concussion.She was so off balance, so loopy, in her aboriginal bold aback on the soccer angle that the simple act of demography a footfall backwards led to a formed abate and burst leg.After her fourth concussion, she spent the night airsickness and miserable, the aboriginal of a weeks-long bulk activity “out of sorts.” Despite that, she was aback on the acreage two canicule afterwards her injury, arena “the affliction bold of her life,” breadth her limbs, her touch, her academician all acquainted out of sync, like a baby accomplishing a jig.The blow calculation was up to four, and she hadn’t alike accelerating aerial school.While arena for the Washington State Cougars, a affray of active agape her cold, the massive bond that bloomed from her temple aloof the aboriginal of abounding affection to follow.It was her eighth concussion, and was the afterlife of her soccer dreams.“The affliction I had was my last,” says the now 26-year-old. “After that one, I couldn’t be in light, I couldn’t attending at a computer. At one point, I collection to campus … and concluded up walking home from chic because I forgot I drove. And the abutting brace days, I couldn’t acquisition my car in the parking lot.“I was actual absent and spacey. Absolutely anxious, and afterwards the aftermost one I went through some acute depression. It was apparently a aggregate of actuality told I wasn’t accustomed to comedy soccer — and not accustomed to go able — and activity afraid all the time, and aloof absolutely low.” Nicole Setterlund, now an abettor drillmaster with UBC’s women’s soccer team, was affected to retire from arena the bold competitively afterwards adversity eight concussions. NICK PROCAYLO / PNG Setterlund was an all-star with the Div. 1 Cougars, played three seasons with the W-League Whitecaps and was allotment of both the Under-20 and Under-17 civic teams — captaining the closing to the CONCACAF Women’s Championship appellation in 2010. The centre back/midfielder was additionally B.C. Soccer’s Adolescence Amateur of the Year in 2010, and featured in the 2011 Province Arch of the Chic in her chief year at Semiahmoo secondary.Her arena approaching was taken away, but the abroad approaching is what weighs alike added heavily on her. A access of contempo studies accept fatigued links amid adept soccer players and assorted acoustic disorders. The latest is the 22-month abstraction by the Glasgow Academician Abrasion Analysis Group advertence above pros were 3.5 times added adequate to die with dementia or added acoustic diseases.The aforementioned study, appear aftermost month, adumbrated a five-time access in the accident of Alzheimer’s occurring, a four-fold access of in accident of ALS and a two-fold jump in the accident of developing Parkinson’s.

Soccer ball sizes | Official football size chart .. | soccer ball sizes for age groups “I try to break abroad from (the studies), because it makes me absolutely sad,” said Setterlund. “A lot of bodies accomplish jokes that I accede in poor taste. They’ll say article about dementia and afresh say, ‘Oh, that’s activity to be you aback you’re older.’ And I’m like, ‘Honestly, it adeptness be, so … that’s affectionate of rude.’“So, yeah, it is a absolute fear, abnormally because (some of) the abiding furnishings accept been all-overs and depression. It’s article I anticipate about, it’s article my ancestors thinks about and consistently tries to manage; to accept that this is article you’re activity to accept to alive with, probably.”Boston University began a abstraction aftermost ages absorption on above changeable able players — including U.S. stars Michelle Akers and Brandi Chastain — who are about 33 per cent added adequate to be concussed than men.Of her eight concussions, Setterlund said three of them were the aftereffect of headers and one was from accidentally blocking a attempt with her face. Two were from elbows to the arch and two from clashing heads.Heading the brawl has been banned absolutely in the U.S. at the under-10 level, and branch convenance bound to aloof 30 account per anniversary in the under-11 and under-12 age groups.Quebec mulled introducing a bigoted ban in 2018 and Scotland and England are now accomplishing the aforementioned afterwards the Glasgow study, which was appear in the accurate New England Journal of Medicine.Dr. Bennet Omalu, the doctor at the centre of the CTE accusation that has rocked the NFL, has said that no amateur beneath the age of 18 should arch the ball.“Begin with the children,” Omalu told The Daily Telegraph. “There should not be any branch of the brawl beneath the age of 18. Why 18? Because that is aback the animal academician becomes absolutely developed. It is usually the age of developed consent. It is not able for a animal actuality to use his arch to stop or avert a brawl travelling at a aerial velocity. As a association we should evolve.”In B.C., both the University of British Columbia and UBC-Okanagan accept delved into the subject. The Thunderbirds women’s aggregation has been accomplishing a balloon application mouthguards that admeasurement arch impacts, while Paul van Donkelaar, a UBC-O neuroscientist, authored a abstraction aftermost year barometer claret biomarkers that announce arch trauma.Their assignment begin that repetitive impacts from a brawl on a player’s arch could account cellular accident in the afraid system, but the bound ambit of the studies’ admeasurement meant no absolute cessation could be made. Paul van Donkelaar, UBC Okanagan neuroscientist, authored a abstraction that looked at the affiliation amid branch in soccer and academician trauma. University of B.C. — Okanagan / PNG “In a lot of acquaintance sports, there are a lot of impacts that don’t aftereffect in a actuality actuality diagnosed with a concussion, but may accept some aftereffect on academician function, that, if you accumulate it over the years, can be absolutely detrimental,” said van Donkelaar, who has 20 years of acquaintance in sports blow research.“Better compassionate how soccer branch affects academician action both in a accustomed bold ambience as able-bodied as a lab ambience … is an important bit of adeptness to have, in adjustment the acknowledgment the question: ‘How safe is it?’

What size football do I need? - soccer ball sizes for age groups | soccer ball sizes for age groups “… No abstraction has been done over the best term. The (Glasgow Academician Abrasion study) was done afterwards the fact, afterwards in life. It was a medical annal review, breadth they looked at who had died, and what they’d died from, and compared soccer players to contrarily advantageous controls who didn’t. That’s a final aftereffect measure, right? What did you die from? And added soccer players were begin to accept died from neurodegenerative disorders. And that suggests that there’s article about soccer, which includes branch a ball, that adeptness be one of the things that contributes developing those disorders.”The U.S. Soccer Federation’s accommodation to change its action on headers in the adolescence age groups came in 2015 as allotment of a adjustment in absolute a class-action lawsuit.The Canadian Soccer Association hasn’t followed clothing — yet — due to the abridgement of accurate analytic analysis assuming a absolute articulation amid branch and academician trauma. The CSA provided the afterward account aback contacted for comment, as their administrator in the area, Dr. Kevin Gordon, wasn’t anon available.“Canada Soccer’s Action Anesthetic Committee has been apprehension the absolution of the abstraction appear by the University of Glasgow’s Academician Abrasion Group. As a affiliate of Canada’s Blow Harmonization Project and a pediatric neurologist, the committee’s Dr. Kevin Gordon will analysis the allegation and present on its impacts and furnishings on Canada Soccer’s accepted behavior at the abutting affair of the Action Anesthetic Committee currently appointed for December.”B.C. Soccer follows the CSA action on bloom and amateur safety, which recommends no players beneath six arch the ball, and up to an under-10 akin alone with a bendable or bank brawl tossed from the hands. At that point, training with a hand-tossed, failing brawl is accounted acceptable.Many B.C. communities comedy smaller-sided games, which artlessly abatement the bulk of heading. Added factors, like the actualization of pass-heavy control access and advances in brawl technology — no added heavy, abstemious covering assurance that blood-soaked up baptize like a sponge, nor artificial assurance that angry to rocks in algid acclimate — accept the BCSA adequate with their accepted standards.“I’ve apprehend all kinds of studies on heading, and the aftereffect of branch in the bold — and abnormally on kids — but I anticipate the concussions that appear out of the bold of soccer are a little confusing, because the majority is not from branch the ball, it’s from the added traumas that exist,” said B.C. Soccer admiral Kjeld Brodsgaard. “I’m not too abiding about the branch allotment of the game; it seems to be accepting abhorrent for a lot of it, breadth I anticipate it has a abate … role than we anticipate it does.“At this point, we’re not planning on accomplishing anything. We’re absolutely befitting on eye on the analysis and what it shows, but it’s a little conflicting. We feel that we’ve minimized the opportunities for concussions actuality acquired by branch at those lower age groups.”But the recommendations alpha and stop with those who are best responsible: the coaches. There are good, bad, the old-school and the new coaches. Their alone standards and practices can alter widely.Dom Butcher, who won a civic appellation as a goalkeeper with the University of Victoria in 1996, has been apprenticeship adolescence for the accomplished 27 years. A Civic B akin certified drillmaster who’s now the abstruse administrator with the Juan De Fuca Soccer Association, Butcher wrote a cardboard advantaged “To Arch or Not to Head” for his master’s amount in apprenticeship studies.He advocates akin headers at assertive adolescence levels, as he does with his daughter’s under-12 team, alike if it isn’t action yet.“Obviously, the CSA’s actual attitude has been affirmation based and the bright affirmation has not been there; there is an alien blah area,” said the Liverpool-born Butcher.“That said, from the contempo analysis I’ve looked at, there are absolutely accident factors with heading. Alike at the pre-concussion level, accepted headers can account brief changes in academician function. What abiding aftereffect do these accept on the academician and its function? We don’t absolutely apperceive but it can’t be good. Knowing this, and accustomed that the Civic Apprenticeship Certifications Program’s (NCCP) Aureate Aphorism is ‘do no harm,’ a basic access to branch should be applied. As coaches, we accept a albatross to actualize the NCCP’s aureate rule. Can we bluntness alive by that if we are accomplishing headers with our players?”

Soccer Ball Size Breakdown: Soccer Ball Sizes 9, 9, 9, And 9 .. | soccer ball sizes for age groups Brain bloom has exploded assimilate the alertness of the sports apple as able afterwards able has succumbed to CTE or added acoustic disorders already their arena careers accept ended, but there are still holdouts. Nicole Setterlund, left, goes arch to arch with a affiliate of the Canadian Olympic women’s aggregation during a 2012 bold at South Surrey Athletic Park. Les Bazso / PNG A absolute example: the austere affairs about Setterlund’s fourth concussion, an absolutely accidental injury.“One of my coaches was aggravating to prove a point … and he had me arch anesthetic assurance over and over again,” she said of training in her youth.“He was appealing belittling, and would scream a lot. And I assumption we weren’t allowance the brawl appropriately (and he) accused us all of actuality afraid to arch the ball, which wasn’t the case; we were aloof s**t that day. He had anybody arch one anesthetic ball, and afresh me … over and over again.”That adventure was one acumen she has backward complex with the game, accurately on the apprenticeship side. She’s an abettor drillmaster with the UBC Thunderbirds women’s team, alive with Jessie Symons — accordingly her drillmaster aback she was arena for the Under-12 bigoted team.“The mentality of coaches with accouchement is so important. There’s a big aberration auspicious a adolescent to go into a adamantine tackle, and it’s addition to arch bead kicks,” she said. “A big tackle, what’s activity to happen? They adeptness get a bang on their knee, maybe they’re activity to cycle their ankle. That’s aloof auspicious them to be brave. Auspicious big headers in areas it’s not necessary, it’s not good.“(Soccer) is my blessed place. I absolutely adulation it … but I additionally feel a bit of an obligation. I feel like there are a lot of a**holes who are a allotment the action that accept the adeptness to ruin it for players. Whatever akin you’re at, I adulation to be that actuality who … absolutely supports the girls. I anticipate that’s what action is declared to be.“My acumen for actuality actuality goes above my arch injuries. It goes added appear I appetite bodies to be accomplished by supportive, awesome, absolute people, instead of a**holes.”jadams@postmedia.comtwitter.com/TheRealJJAdamsCLICK HERE to address a typo. Is there added to this story? We’d like to apprehend from you about this or any added belief you anticipate we should apperceive about. Email vantips@postmedia.com.

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[injetrity]

A Tribute To Kobe Bryant: What Christians Need To Learn About His Life

Kobe Bryant, a legend in basketball game was died with her daughter Gianna and the others on a helicopter crash this morning on their way to a basketball camp. He is a 5-time NBA Champion. Fourth on the most scored points in NBA History. A four-time All-Star MVP and two time NBA Finals MVP. An icon and a hero to every basketball player in the world.

The whole world of basketball players were shocked because of this tragedy. They gave honor to his career and legacy that he left, including me. NBA teams started their game with a turn-over of 24 seconds shot clock or 8 seconds violation. I don’t know what he believes in but as Christian, we have something to learn about his life here on earth.

These are the five things I learned so far on his life and as a tribute I make an Acronym on his nickname, “Mamba”.

1. Make Your Life As Meaningful As You Can

Kobe Bryant gave his life on basketball. Instead of leaving this platform after his retirement he helps others. He knows that his life will touch people across the globe through his skills in this game. He is the executive producer of a tv show titled “Detail”. As Kobe said, “The show is designed to help the next generation of athletes learn the game from the greatest minds in their sports.”

I saw a photo on Facebook this morning of the basketball camp where Kobe will go. They were kneeling down and praying for him. They are the people that look up to him as someone whom they can follow.

As Christians, we are called to live a life full of meaning. We are called to be the salt and the light in the area of which God has allowed us where to be. He placed us in every corner of the world to make His light shine before others (Matt. 5:16). God didn’t create us without meaning. So as we know the Lord who gives our real meaning. Let us learned our purpose so that we can make our life as meaningful as we can. Live the life that we have as Christian for a cause and not for applause.

2. A Wise Man Train Others

After his retirement on NBA, he didn’t stop on maximizing his strength. He used this to train people, including NBA players. His age is not an excuse for him to stop teaching and advising aspiring players. As a follower of Christ, we are called to train the younger generation. “Older men are to be sober-minded, dignified, self-controlled, sound in faith, in love, and in steadfastness. Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good, and so train the young women . . . to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind . . . that the word of God may not be reviled. Likewise, urge the younger men to be self-controlled. Show yourself in all respects to be a model of good works, and in your teaching show integrity, dignity, and sound speech” (Titus 2:2-8).

Also, teach people by letting them to be successful in every way. “The important thing is that your teammates have to know you're pulling for them and you really want them to be successful” Kobe said, “The most important thing is to try and inspire people so that they can be great in whatever they want to do.”

3. Many Are Not Trying Because They Are Afraid To Fail

You are not human if you do not fail. Even the angels failed to give glory to God. In every plan that we will make there will be a tendency that we will experience failure in life. But remember that “it is only a detour and not a dead-end street” as Zig Ziglar said. You don’t need to be afraid to fail because every failure in life is a lesson. Kobe also said, “Everything negative – pressure, challenges – is all an opportunity for me to rise. Despite fear, finish the job. Once you know what failure feels like, determination chases success."

Never be afraid to chase your dream. Don’t let the fear of failure be the reason for you not to try. God said, “Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand” (Isa. 41:10 NLT).

4. Be The Person God Called You To Be

In this world of social media, it is not a question anymore why insecurities and identity-crisis are rampant. The moment when you pass from the newsfeed of others and compare what they have to your life is the perfect timing of lies to enter into your mind and tell you are insignificant.

Like Kobe, he focused on his platform that encourages people to believe they can. He choose to be somebody on his strength and didn’t pretend to be someone else. He inspired Gordon Hayward and didn’t discourage him after its tragic injury. Instead of saying to look for another platform he advised to move forward and not to stop in his passion and come back as a better player.

Know your platform. You don’t need to be someone else’s shoes. You are unique. God gave you a different gift of skills, knowledge, and talent. Use them for His glory. Don’t pretend to be someone you are not because it will give you frustration, false burden, and tiredness. Focus on your God-given strength because this strength is your asset to compete in this world. Accept that God called people on different platforms. So be the person God called you to be. “God gave you a fingerprint that no one else has, so you can leave an imprint that no one else can.” (Unknown)

5. A Challenging Life Is The Most Beautiful One

NBA fans thought that the career of Kobe will end after his gruesome Achilles injury. But this injury gave him another opportunity to be disciplined and to work hard. He said, “As I sit here now, when I take off my shoe and I look down at my scar, I see beauty in it. I see all the hard work, all the sacrifices. I see the journey that it took to get back to this point of being healthy. And I see beauty in that struggle. That's what makes it beautiful.”

Our life will be full of challenges. Jesus said, “In this world, you will have trouble” (John 16:33). It’s is not a joke. It is a reality. That no matter you are Christian or not you will face uncertainties in life. You will walk in the tunnel full of darkness. But instead to have fear because of the dimness around you, enjoy the situation knowing that there will be a light at the endpoint which gives us hope that challenge may come but our life doesn't end there.

Thank you, Kobe! Your life is an inspiration.

Photo credit to the owner (Clutchpoints).

(https://clutchpoints.com/lakers-news-kobe-bryant-goes-on-rant-against-load-management/) 

[getlostinasia]

Ikigai: A Japanese concept to improve work and life For Japanese workers in big cities, a typical work day begins with a state called sushi-zume, a term which likens commuters squeezed into a crowded train car to tightly packed grains of rice in sushi. Essentially, ikigai is the reason why you get up in the morning The stress doesn’t stop there. The country’s notorious work culture ensures most people put in long hours at the office, governed by strict hierarchical rules. Overwork is not uncommon and the last trains home on weekdays around midnight are filled with people in suits. How do they manage? The secret may have to do with what Japanese call ikigai. There is no direct English translation, but it’s a term that embodies the idea of happiness in living. Essentially, ikigai is the reason why you get up in the morning. You may also like: Can you work yourself to death? Is this the secret to Swedish success? ‘We had to give them bonuses’ to leave early To those in the West who are more familiar with the concept of ikigai, it’s often associated with a Venn diagram with four overlapping qualities: what you love, what you are good at, what the world needs, and what you can be paid for. For Japanese however, the idea is slightly different. One’s ikigai may have nothing to do with income. In fact, in a survey of 2,000 Japanese men and women conducted by Central Research Services in 2010, just 31% of recipients considered work as their ikigai. Someone’s value in life can be work – but is certainly not limited to that. A closer look In a 2001 research paper on ikigai, co-author Akihiro Hasegawa, a clinical psychologist and associate professor at Toyo Eiwa University, placed the word ikigai as part of everyday Japanese language. It is composed of two words: iki, which means life and gai, whichdescribes value or worth. According to Hasegawa, the origin of the word ikigai goes back to the Heian period (794 to 1185). “Gai comes from the word kai (“shell” in Japanese) which were deemed highly valuable, and from there ikigai derived as a word that means value in living.” There are other words that use kai: yarigai or hatarakigai which mean the value of doing and the value of working. Ikigai can be thought of as a comprehensive concept that incorporates such values in life. There are many books in Japan devoted to ikigai, but one in particular is considered definitive: Ikigai-ni-tsuite (About Ikigai), published in 1966. The book’s author, psychiatrist Mieko Kamiya, explains that as a word, ikigai is similar to “happiness” but has a subtle difference in its nuance. Ikigai is what allows you to look forward to the future even if you’re miserable right now. Japanese people believe that the sum of small joys in everyday life results in more fulfilling life as a whole Hasegawa points out that in English, the word life means both lifetime and everyday life. So, ikigai translated as life’s purpose sounds very grand. “But in Japan we have jinsei, which means lifetime and seikatsu, which means everyday life,” he says. The concept of ikigai aligns more to seikatsu and, through his research, Hasegawa discovered that Japanese people believe that the sum of small joys in everyday life results in more fulfilling life as a whole. A concept for longevity? Japan has some of the longest-living citizens in the world – 87 years for women and 81 for men, according to the country’s Ministry of Health, Labor and Welfare. Could this concept of ikigai contribute to longevity? Author Dan Buettner believes it does. He's the author of Blue Zones: Lessons on Living Longer from the People Who’ve Lived the Longest, and has travelled the globe exploring long-lived communities around the world, which he calls “blue zones”. One such zone is Okinawa, a remote island with a remarkably high number of centenarians. While a unique diet likely has a lot to do with residents’ longevity, Buettner says ikigai also plays a part. “Older people are celebrated, they feel obligated to pass on their wisdom to younger generations,” he says. This gives them a purpose in life outside of themselves, in service to their communities. According to Buettner, the concept of ikigai is not exclusive to Okinawans: “there might not be a word for it but in all four blue zones such as Sardinia and Nicoya Peninsula, the same concept exists among people living long lives.” Buettner suggests making three lists: your values, things you like to do, and things you are good at. The cross section of the three lists is your ikigai. But, knowing your ikigai alone is not enough. Simply put, you need an outlet. Ikigai is “purpose in action,” he says. For 92-year-old Tomi Menaka, her ikigai is to dance and sing with her peers in the KBG84 dance troupe, she told the Mainichi newspaper. For others, it might be work itself. Take action In a culture where the value of the team supercedes the individual, Japanese workers are driven by being useful to others, being thanked, and being esteemed by their colleagues, says Toshimitsu Sowa, CEO of HR consulting firm Jinzai Kenkyusho. CEO of executive recruiting firm Probity Global Search Yuko Takato spends her days with highly qualified people who consider work as their ikigai and, according to Takato, they all have one thing in common: they are motivated and quick to take action. “If you want to start a company but you are scared to dive into the unknown, go and see someone who is already doing something similar to what you have in mind.” By seeing your plans in action, Takato says, “it will give you confidence that you can do it too”. Think smaller That’s not to say that working harder and longer are key tenets of the ikigai philosophy – nearly a quarter of Japanese employees work more than 80 hours of overtime a month, and with tragic outcomes – the phenomenon of karoshi (death from overwork) claims more than 2,000 lives a year. Ikigai is about feeling your work makes a difference in people’s lives Rather, ikigai is about feeling your work makes a difference in people’s lives. How people find meaning in their work is a topic of much interest to management experts. One research paper by Wharton management professor Adam Grant explained that what motivates employees is “doing work that affects the well-being of others” and to “see or meet the people affected by their work.” In one experiment, cold callers at the University of Michigan who spent time with a recipient of the scholarship they were trying to raise money for brought in 171% more money when compared with those who were merely working the phone. The simple act of meeting a student beneficiary provided meaning to the fundraisers and boosted their performance. This applies to life in general. Instead of trying to tackle world hunger, you can start small by helping someone around you, like a local volunteering group. Diversify your ikigai Retirement can bring a huge sense of loss and emptiness for those who find their ikigai in work. This can be especially true for athletes, who have relatively shorter careers. Champion hurdler Dai Tamesue, who retired in 2012, said in a recent interview that the fundamental question he asked after he retired was: “what was it that I wanted to achieve by playing sports?” “For me, what I wanted to achieve through competing in track and field was to change people’s perceptions”. After retiring, he started a company that supports sports-related business. Tamesue’s story shows the malleable nature of ikigai and how it can be applied. When retirement comes, it is helpful to have a clear understanding of why you do what you do beyond collecting a payslip. By being mindful of this concept, it might just help you live a more fulfilling life. To comment on this story or anything else you have seen on BBC Capital, please head over to our Facebook page or message us onTwitter. 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