The Lady Bugs and the Trans Gym Queens Soccer Match

The Lady Bugs and the Trans Gym Queens Soccer Match by Sir Gullible of Ireland.

My name is Sir Gullible. I am a direct descendent of Sir Gulliver of Ireland. I’m sure you have heard of my ancestor’s adventures. Tales of his journeys inspired me so much that I decided that I must go to Amerikay on a quest of my own.

            I was in awe of what I found in New York City.  After walking several blocks past tent cities of homeless people and too many sleeping on the street,  I was only mugged once, and I was told by a policeman I complained to that I was one of the lucky ones. I maneuvered my way through discarded needles and feces and decided I had seen enough.  I had heard there were still plenty of NORMAL places in America, so after renting a car, I began my drive across Amerikay, starting with up-state New York, to see the real America.

            In one city, I bought a ticket for a university girls soccer team who had a table in front of the grocery. As a European, I had always  enjoyed futbol (soccer) more than the American sport called football. So, I bought a ticket for the game that would be played later that afternoon in a nearby sports park.  The contest was between two teams: The Lady Bugs and the Trans Gym Queens.  I was a bit puzzled by the team names.

            At the park, I sat in the stands with the Lady Bug crowd, fans, mothers, fathers and grandmothers. The Lady Bug team came out, dressed in traditional red and black soccer uniforms and were greeted with applause and cheers from the crowd. In front of the bleachers were a small group of cheerleaders with cute little bows in their hair. TheyI th led the spectators in familiar and encouraging cheers.  A mascot, who was at least six-feet tall, was decked out in a fine ladybug costume.  He carried a bullhorn and joined the cheerleaders in stirring up the crowd.

            However, the raucous audience on the other side, cheering for the Trans Gym Queens was much different. The audience waved Rainbow and LGBTQ flags and held up signs of support. I thought some of the wording on the signs was crude and politically charged. Hair was dyed in all kinds of wild colors and arms and flabby legs covered with esoteric tattoos. Nearby, I saw CNN and ESPN reporters filming. I wondered what they really thought about the audience.

            When the Trans Gym Queen team ran onto the field,  I gasped. The team members were tall—none under six feet. Most had bright bows clamped to their cropped or long flowing hair,  heavy makeup,  five o’clock shadows on their face, and the Adam’s Apples bobbing in their throat made me feel like I was watching Pelican eat fish. One reminded me of Piltdown Man. Some of the Queens had unshaved legs. In contrast to the typical soccer uniform of jersey, stocking, and shorts, the Trans Gym Queens were dressed in knee-length dresses and skirts, like you would have seen in women’s sports many years ago.

            When the match started, the Lady Bugs won the first toss, and quickly kicked the ball so that their forwards had a quick and clear path to the goal. Lady Bugs 1, Trans Gym Queens 0.

            However,  the momentum of the match quickly changed. When a Lady Bug shouted, “Get out of the way, freak!” the trans ref gave her a yellow card.  And as the Queens charged forward, they butted heads, and knocked Lady Bugs to the ground with impunity. Obviously unfair, the refs gave the Lady Bugs penalty after penalty, but even though the Lady Bug fans expressed their displayer, the game moved on. I could see where this was going. I knew the Ladybugs had no chance of winning. Though I had been a soccer coach in Ireland for both boy and girl teams, I could not read how the refs felt about this game or the Trans Gym Queens. However, I had some insight when the female coach of the Ladybugs complained rather loudly, she was ejected from the game, so I suspected the refs had a bias.

            The ejection of the coach seemed to completely demoralize the Ladybugs and they stood on the side in stunned silence. When the game resumed, they put up little resistance to the Trans Queens, who continued their aggressive, bullying behavior and scoring point after point.

            This made me feel rather sad for the Ladybugs. The size and strength of the transgender team was a serious and unfair advantage. I thought for a normal biologically correct team wo women to oppose a whole herd of biological males would be  like a lone swimmer fighting a tsunami. This one-sided game caused me to reflect on the transgender issue in America or the UK: I wondered why no one is making comparisons or learning from The Island of Dr. Moreau and the themes of human identity and the consequences of human interference with nature and reconstructing women’s sports so that girls had to compete against males.

            The Queens lined up and began to heckle the Ladybug fans. The Ladybug mascot threw down his bullhorn and marched out to the Queens and chewed them out. One made the mistake of throwing a punch at the mascot. The mascot decked his attacker. This angered the other trans-Queens, so they all screamed and rushed at the mascot who had dared to stand up to them. The mascot must have been trained in martial arts because instead of allowing the group of trans-Queens to circle him, he moved around so that he lined them up and only faced one at a time. And one by one, the Queens fell to the ground. To the rousing cheers of the audience, he danced around with his hands in the air like a victorious boxer.

            I learned something about Amerikay that day: Though America’s culture is changing, and those on the WOKE progressive side in America’s Culture War seemed determined to silence those who disagree and dominate and control them, and force others to accept deviant behavior. Today, it only took one Ladybug mascot to teach these trans bullies a lesson and to show they haven’t won yet.

            I wonder what other strange sights I would see in this troubled America as I continued my journey. Stay tuned!

Sir Gullible