By Esther McCarty,Irishexaminer.com

Copyright irishexaminer

The Tennis Mum

Signature look: She wears the gear everywhere. You’re shopping in Aldi at 8pm in a skort, Susan, calm down. She has amazing arms and is keeping Lululemon in business. And even though some would say she’s a bit long in the tooth for a high ponytail, she cares not. A combo of year-round waxing, sun exposure, and the optical illusion of the little white socks against weathered skin means her legs always look tan. She knows her way around the active wear department in Brown Thomas. Did someone say Sweaty Betty?

Distinctive behaviours: She stops going out on Friday nights because she has a 7am match, and she really wants to beat those bitches from Kinsale. She can shoehorn tennis into literally any conversation.

“So we have to decide to turn the life support off today,” you might say.

“Oh, how awful. Speaking of support, I have a doubles against Sunday’s Well in an hour, and I have to change into my sports bra,” she will respond and then bore on with the full rally-by-rally replay of last week’s game. Some would say it’s pathological.

Signature look: Wears the club jersey on the school run, Zoom calls, funeral, and to her anniversary dinner — but with a slick of lippy. She also wears one a few sizes too big as a nightdress. She is the queen of the bobble hats, and always has a fleece and a long coat in the boot. She makes Christmas and birthdays easy, a new Fitbit and a signed photo of Jimmy Barry Murphy, thanks a million.

Distinctive behaviours: Knows the resting heart rate of most of the rival teams, U5s and up. She is the woman to know if you want to get into the lost and found. Refers to every team in the club as ‘we’. Will make 2,445 ham sangers and it’s white bread and proper butter and don’t mind your wholewheat nonsense. She can be spotted power walking around the pitches to get her steps up, only stopping to pull out a weed. She is a dog person and good at gardening. She is a dinger with a hurley, and should the apocalypse come, she will be one of the survivors. A kind soul, all about community, but cross her at your peril.

The Yoga Mama

Signature look: Languid, floaty, sinewy, with a beatific smile. She either wears her hair long and flowing (pigtails on a Friday) or super short, like 1990s Winona Ryder, all the better to expose her swan-like neck. She has excellent posture and instinctively breathes into her diaphragm, which perhaps explains how she always appears so calm, even when her kid is defecating in a sandbox.

Distinctive behaviours: She makes you want to be a better person and drink green tea at 11am instead of your usual double espresso with a shot of Jameson. She is happy to discuss chakras and your inner child, just after coding a new program for a multinational conglomerate. She is probably amazing in the sack. Her gut biome should be bequeathed to the UCC science department when she dies. But that day may never come. She bakes dairy-free, vegan, gluten-free snacks for the office, and God damn it, they are delicious. But also, if you had to bet on who might be the one to snap and go on a murderous rampage, she’s easy money.

The Soccer Mom

Signature look: You’re not sure because you’re afraid to make eye contact. She is an absolute head the ball.

Distinctive behaviours: Treats the U10 friendlies like Sky Sports are covering it live. Screams at bewildered nine-year-olds to ‘MARK UP!’ and bullies referees half her age. Storms the pitch if there’s a contentious offside. She makes the Manchester United era-Roy Keane look like a reasonable sort of chap. If approached, curl into a small ball, protect your head, and pray she isn’t wearing her studs.

So there you have it. Next time you’re on the sidelines, in the yoga studio, or getting flashed by Susan climbing into her SUV, you might just recognise one of these creatures in the wild.

If not, then I have bad news: you’re probably her.