Sports Day

Let me preface this story by saying that nothing extraordinary happened. There was no epic comeback, no underdog upset, no glorious moment. This is a story instead of intimidation and intensity. Let me set the stage.

I woke up in a state of frenzied excitement. It was game day. I jumped out of bed and into my athletic shorts and Hanes v-neck t-shirt. I fiddled with my black bandana to find the best way to wear it to convey athletic prowess and confidence. I met Ken at breakfast and observed the competition while eating a healthy game day breakfast of good protein and fruit. We decided to leave for the fields at 1, rendering me unable to focuse while trying to do work before our departure.

On our way to the fields, we were concerned about getting our team together when we ran into one teammate sitting at a coffee shop deep in a philosophical debate. Two of our other teammates had church. It wasn’t looking good for the Mighty Ducks. We got to the fields and saw a random assortment of students kicking soccer balls around, throwing a Frisbee, and then as I looked to my left, I saw…the Team in Red. There were about 8 of them dressed in matching red uniforms, decked out in shin guards, long socks, cleats and sweatbands. My pathetic attempt to be intimidating paled in comparison. Ken and I looked at each other and figured they must be a college team out for practice. We scrambled and managed to get together a team of 6 players and we waited for our field assignment to play “Team Vandit.” We were pointed to a field, and with great despair, we learned that they had changed the bracket and we were instead playing the Team in Red. As I looked at the Team in Red, I immediately started doubting our team’s ability to kick a ball, let alone score a goal. If my life had been a movie, the Team in Red would have been in the desert with an epic theme song accompanying their athletic and graceful soccer skills.

The Mighty Ducks looked at each other and the look of fear was plastered on all of our faces. The other team was in freakin' uniforms! The goalie had goalie gloves. They had shinguards. They might have well been foaming at the mouths and getting ready to charge in battle. We accepted our fate and the game began. At about the two minute mark, I was down on their end when the ball came hurtling at my face. I honestly don't know what else I was supposed to do besides swat it away from my face. I guess it shows that I have been trained my whole life to catch things instead of let them hit my face. The other team was in an uproar because of my “handball.” They scored after about 5 minutes and once more before the half time. Early in the game, Ken had a collision with the tallest guy from the other team and accidentally hit him in the nose. He was out for blood after that, slide tackling anyone with the ball and bulldozing over anyone in his path. He was the only scorer for their team and the game ended in a 0-3 loss. At one point, Macho Man was dribbling toward me, slowed down and then pushed right in to me. After my call to him to "Chill" and my request that he “take it easy," he defended his jerkish move by saying "I have the ball--YOU ran into me!" to which a teammate of mine pointed out that he had about 50 pound on me. Sadly, the Mighty Ducks fell in the first round to the Team in Red. My excitement for soccer was quickly terminated and I turned my attention to a game of American football. I quickly learned that the easiest way to impress jocks is to throw a decent spiral pass to them. Suddenly you escalate in cool status and you're invited to play two hand touch. Sadly, however, I learned that when playing with jocks, girls become invisible, but the one pass I did catch was a touch-down pass! After the game, I went with a group to get ice cream--a good conclusion to a fun summer day of sports. I remembered why I quit soccer, and I became thankful that I learned to throw through softball.


July 18