Just took the boys to the park so we could kick around the soccer ball. John Paul seems to have an interest in that lately. On the field was a high school soccer team in the middle of practice. We stayed off to the side. Sometime later a school bus arrived. A team wearing neat blue uniforms marched off and started their warm up.

I hardly paid attention as the game started. As the boys' attention wandered, I started telling them about how the game is played by pointing out the action on the field. Surprisingly, John Paul showed interest, then Joseph did likewise.

I was trying to show how each team was trying to get the ball away from the other so they could kick it into their net. I quickly realized that the game was very lopsided -- the blue team was everywhere the ball was going; the other team... stank.

It wasn't until we took new positions at the other end of the field (the blue team's goal, where all the action was) that I was able to read the jerseys. That was Bronxville. And the hapless slobs who couldn't string two kicks together? That was Tuckahoe.

Figures.

It reminded me of all those awful teen angst comedies, where the preppy jocks come to the game well-groomed and well-drilled but somehow the working class mooks seize the day.

That wasn't about to happen here. We watched for a while. John Paul cheered for the blue team. Mojo fussed. And then we came inside to eat lunch.

I'll leave class warfare to the professional politicians.