"You Have a Leader's Voice"

With all of the summer leagues having come to a close with the exception of one, I haven't had many games to log recently. As an update, the last summer team functioning is the Cooligans, who had secured top spot in the division a game before its end. And now, with playoffs coming, we have one or two more games to play, depending on our fortunes.

The last two Cooligans games I had played in, we needed a substitute goalie, so I filled in, somewhat regretably. Now, goalie really isn't my best position, as many will attest to, but I have found that I have hot nights and cold nights. My last night in net for an indoor mens team was a particularly cold night, and when I'm cold; I'm really cold, but when I'm hot; I'm really hot.

And heat is what happened in (one of) those games. In the first of the two, I let in four while my team pressed and scored a dozen, getting a couple fortunate post hits, and I was mediocre that night. Mediocre because of all the saveable shots taken, I got to them, but they were usually at my gut. The unsaveables were from two-or-three-on-ones that had been crossed right across my box to an open player willing to tap in.

In the second game in net, I made four or five breakaway stops, and let one goal in that a defender admitted fault for not marking his player who was open on the other side of the box. I made really good free kicks and dominated my box very well, and I must say, I was deserving of a shut out. Hopefully this doesn't make me the de facto back-up keeper, because I certainly am not capable of that on a day to day basis. We won 3-1, but in reality it should've been 3-2; I grazed an indirect free kick in the last minute that nobody else had seen. I believe we end up playing the worst team in the league (in my opinion) in the first round of playoffs.

STD's playoff run ended swiftly, much to our steadily improving team's chagrin. We ended up taking third in the league after being last place for the first four games, but we lost our second and third playoff games after winning the first in penalties. I have no idea how the playoff structure went, but in was poorly thought-up to say the least.

I started out as a sweeper, keeping them out relatively well. After a goal of our own, they capitalized with an incredibly fortunate chipped shot with my goalie and I bearing down on a player who was set free from the trap. After this, I moved into the midfield, and the game became easier, in spite of missing our best players and having no subs.

We got scored on early in the second half, but off a corner, I headed one in to equalize. it was from about eight yards out and I was unmarked, allowing me to head downwards powerfully enough to bounce over the man covering the near post.

I took the first penalty and drained it in the bottom left, trying not to think of the last penalty I had tryed to place there with the Hurricanes a month before, in a game which I didn't report here, but we lost 5-4 in the last five minutes after I was taken off when the score was 3-4. I'll have you know, I had made up for that penalty by creating what I thought would be the game-winning goal soon after, by switching the ball to an open team mate for him to cross it in. That whole game was terrible, my team fell off the map after being up by two at half. The lead changed twice more, and then they ran away with in with a free kick, effectively ending our season.

After STD won, I booked it to the lake to enjoy the last weekend of "summer", coming back a day later for a U of W B-team game.

I've been training with the U of W team for quite some time now, and my touch has really failed me in training, to the point that the coaches noticed it and lowered my position on the totem pole.

In this game, I started on the bench, and when asked by the coach about my position, I told him I was a right winger or a defensive midfielder. He asked me which it was, so I told him wing, and then saw him write striker down on his paper. Go figure.

I went in at about twenty minutes time after watching numerous players get taken off for laziness (including Clinton, a friend from the Hurricanes) and general bad play.

The team we played was the Regional Training Center team, composed of 14-17 year-olds who passed us to death. When I got on, I began pressuring, and despite our lack of midfield pressence with certain players, we started winning the ball up higher on the pitch. At one point, I tracked back from my striker position to win a slide tackle from behind just inside our box, but it was clean (and beautiful), so I recieved some praise from the coach at half time for being (along with my good pal Mick) one of the only two players to come back and win a tackle.

At the restart, I pressured more and won a couple balls high up the pitch, and I won a couple good fouls that we didn't capitalize on. One foul that was won by my side's winger when I played him through ended up in a free kick which was crossed in. I got my head to it and glanced it into the roof of the net, which gave us a 1-0 lead*. At first, I was incredibly excited, celebrating with a trademark clenched-double-fisted underhanded fist pump while yelling "YEAAAAAAAAAAAH" at the top of my lungs. I then realized that I had just scored a header against a team of (mostly) pint-sized kids while excellent touch, passing, and discipline, but then it just turned into "I just scored on a bunch of runts". Regardless, I'm still proud of my first (and likely only) university level goal. I wasn't taken off for the rest of the game, though I was yelled at from the sidelines to stay up front more.

I felt that the coach approved of my game, and I think I have moved back up the totem pole again. Recently, I also get the feeling that they're helping me work on my touch more, by making me a neutral in keepaway drills, allowing me to get on the ball more.

If I can prove myself just a bit more, I get the feeling good things are going to come.

* - This was in the second half only, which we won 1-0. We lost the first half 0-4, three of those happening before I got on.

Extinction is for Chumps

These past three days have really put the hurtin' on me, to the point that it's uncomfortable to even sit in a chair and write this. My left slide is torn up from slide tackling on the artificial pitch at Waverly and both knees are swollen and sore from collisions.

This is after three days of "healing".

I suppose I'll write about the trifling issues first, such as Saturday's game with STD and today's practice with the Hurricanes.

But first, we'll start with Friday's game with the Hurricanes which against the number one team on a wet artificial pitch. I started the game as center back, and within one minute my first touch which was meant to take down a ball that went over my head resulted in me slipping and letting a striker go score a goal. It was absolutely terrible, so I switched with a midfielder who has played center-back and went on the wing. From there, I scored a diving header from a cross, almost headed in another that was bobbling in front of the net, had some excellent set-up play, and generally covered back extremely well. It was after that game that I had realized that I had found my position.

I had played so well that the opposing outside midfielder told me that his team was underestimating me, most likely because he wasn't marking me at all because he was tired, and they wanted me marked because I was terrorizing them. He was a nice guy. The guy he replaced in the first half marked me even less, and I frequently was able to run at the fullback and threaten with crosses and penetrating balls. Overall, I had a very successful game in that position. Probably one of my best outdoor games yet, ever.

We lost 6-3, but regardless, it's at the point with that team that I aim for personal improvement, because, unfortunately, everybody else has lost faith in the team, displayed in the practice we had last night - Three people were there on time (me, the coach, and his loyal pal), and two more came twenty minutes late. This is of a roster of 17 or so. It's a real shame, for two seasons we've had a nearly completely different roster, and nothing is being done about what is actually going wrong with the team*.

The STD game was typical of us, we played better than we actually are, and won 7-2. I drained a penalty in the right side netting against a keeper I only had to hit it meekly anywhere against, I had a small guy throw himself at me and just about knock my teeth out, and I just about went top left corner on the ensuing free kick from a bad angle. The team we played was convinced they were better than us (and they were), and some of the cockiness deserved a few hard slide tackles. Typical anger at getting beat by an overall more organized and better-conditioned side, I suppose.

Monday night I played a competitive indoor game with the Cooligans. I assisted at least two goals, one with a trademark square pass to a defender who took a touch and leathered it, the other as I rushed the keeper, got a ball I wasn't expecting from a defender behind me, and just when the keeper closed me down, I tapped it square off to my striker, but barely, and he converted. We ended up winning 6-1.

And now, the tryouts. There were two this last weekend, and more are planned, but I felt I did well and stand a chance at making the team, lest I fly underneath the radar due to my name not being big enough in Manitoba soccer. Saturday's tryout consisted of conditioning circuits with the ladder, slalom poles, and hurdles, and a lot of sprinting, and then keep away drills which my group required coaching for, due to everybody not defending or making space properly. In the eventual scrimmage, I got bounced around because nobody really knew where they were playing; I started at right back, moved to winger where my Hurricanes compatriot Mentor was also playing, then I moved to center mid and found a lot of space to work with that wasn't taken advantage of because of the lack of passing. After that day, even though I felt I had personally done well, my efforts would have gone unnoticed because of the groups/teams I was with.

Sunday's tryout went much better, we began with a drill where ten players are numbered in a box and passed in increasing number, running outside the box when we've made our pass, then back in to receive another pass. Doing this, I received a "good work!" from the coach when I made a nice long pass. After that, I was a neutral player in a scrimmage with goals at the corner, and I scored a goal and assisted a couple more.

Following that was a scrimmage where I had played in a side playing a 4-4-2 with a diamond. I played as right shuttler, or wide mid with inside duties. I felt really at home in the position, and I made an assist, played a huge part in the buildup of our second goal (with a simple touch and pass wide to my fullback, who assisted the striker who scored), and defended really well considering my defensive midfielder was nowhere to be found. After a slide tackle which I was congratulated for by the guy I tackled (a short winger who I assumed would be quicker than me, I chased him down the wing for ten yards and then went in for it), I had to go out because I had taken a hit on my good knee.

Strangely, I think both knees now have the same problem. I should ice them.

* - Among those things, my favorite is the sideline coaching; constant shouts of "come on guys" and "NO!" but no suggestions given as to what actually needs to happen. Also to be noted is the sometimes bleak outlook (eg: "oh no, we're screwed") on games if some of our key players are missing.

"Anything smaller?"

In recent weeks, football has been quite stagnant in regards to material I can throw on here. There have been wins, there have been losses, and there hasn't been much else to speak of.

I've been getting quite fatigued lately, so right now I'm in the middle of a self-imposed break that should last until Saturday, with two more games being missed.

The importance of this break should also be evaluated on Saturday, when the University has their tryout.

I'm stressing pretty bad about the tryout, so in a game last night, I played quite hard to prove my worth to myself - and fortunately, it showed with a two goal haul, a few assists, and a few runs through three people. It took a load off my mind that I had the ability to do these things, and the two goals were quite nice too - the first was a full turn and shoot from a tight angle that received hatfuls of praise from my peers, and the second was a volley off my left foot that I couldn't see until it trickled behind the keeper off the post then his back. I came close at other times, but my style in that game was to score from close range, and often the front of the net was packed. It didn't help that I was playing mid, there was a lot of running to do.

We'll just have to wait on this stiff knee to see what's going on for the weekend - I'm hoping I can be fit and ready to go.

"I don't understand, there's a raptor there"

I have had the busiest time of my life in the last few days, between my three jobs, house-sitting duties, umpteen teams, and brand-new girlfriend, among other things.

That being said, it's good fun, mostly.

I've had five outdoor games, an indoor game, and a couple practices in the last 5 days as well as some games that I'm forgetting about, but I want to keep it short and sweet anyways.

Friday was host to a co-ed outdoor and then competitive outdoor game. We had very few players for the first game, so I ended up playing striker, which I really enjoyed. I was able to make many dangerous runs and challenge a lot of players, but my shooting was just off; I hit the post twice and was just wide a couple of other times. The runs I made were great though, I felt like a truly natural striker, aside from the lack of finishing. I also megged a guy pretty well, it was awesome because I actually had to predict what he was going to do. I addition to all of that, I had a bicycle kick too, but I may've been showing off just a bit in that case. We ended up coming from behind and tying it 3-all.

I was benched for the first half of my competitive game because I arrived late, and then kept my girlfriend sweet in the stands for the rest of the warm-up. I definitely deserved it, but I feel slightly guilty because of the two goals that were scored against us in the first half while I wasn't on. One, in particular, was off a penalty kick that should've never happened. This was against a team that we needed to beat, too, but didn't. In the second half, we had one more scored on us thanks to some strange keeper positioning and one of my fullbacks getting beaten.

I find, that while playing as a sweeper, the hardest part is when the other team beats a player of mine and I can't get to him in time to fill in and make the tackle or slow him down, and that was exactly what happened. Otherwise, I had a lot of solid blocks and clearances, and I find that I'm getting better at the position. I just have to work on my offside trapping, and then I'll be even better. The only issue with that is when my fullbacks get dragged way behind me, it's completely shot to hell.

Since this issue has been wasting away on my PC for days now, I'll go ahead and post it and play some catch up later.

For now, I've another road trip to Portage La Prairie.

"Oops. Uruguay scored when I was watching Meatloaf in HD"

In the wake of the World Cup, I've been busier than ever.

But there's always time for soccer.

On the afternoon of the third place game, South Transcona District had a game that I was late to due some overnight drinking and work stuff, and what a nail-biter that was. We led thanks to a new player, he had one effective move, and that was to dump the ball past his mark and run around him. Thankfully he had a good shot too, he put in two goals for us. We led 2-0 at the half.

In the second half, we got knocked down a peg, in spite of some amazing play that occured, particularly off a counter attack. Words cannot describe it, so a diagram will have to do.

I'm the Orange star, Ball movement is in black and off the ball runs are in indigo. We did not score.

Aside from some possession and that counter, we got dominated and let in three goals at the start of the half, when our sweeper and I weren't on.

We tied it up with ten minutes to go, and because the team was cocky on the last corner of the game, we managed to counter and score once more for the win. Unbelievable stuff.

Also, I may've gotten a slight concussion in that game when I went for a header. I remember going for a header, hitting something, then waking up shortly after with pain in my head, a bit of groggyness, and this.

What, it's had a couple days to heal...

Yesterday I had an hour and a half of penalty kicks and left-foot practice, two back-to-back games and went for a 4 km run with Jay, and I'm feeling all that today. I slept a mere 6 hours for some reason, and I feel as though I've been worked over pretty well.

Both games were co-ed, the first was with Team Gigantic against a team with an army on the bench. We lost 3-0 thanks to some severe double-coverage and some fatigue, but it was a very fun game. I felt like a prima donna though, my first five touches after running on for an on-the-fly sub were: chesting the ball up, then heading it three times, and letting it drop into a no-look one-timer.

But it was cool.

I also had a few Messi-esque runs from inside my own and some good passing with Josh and Jay, but it just wasn't to be.

The game after was a lot of fun, Greg Pacholek (who is from my old high school soccer team) needed players, and so I donned a baby-sized shirt I found in a back-room and went to town against a team that recruited Derek in net. Happily, I scored twice, the first off a neat cut in and rifle to the far post, and the second thanks to a good cross, bad marking, and decent positioning. We won 6-5, but only after Derek denied me a hat trick after I stole the ball and sent in an off-balanced left-footed shot, which he dove ~40 feet to get a hand in front of. The best thing about that whole scenario was that as I approached him, I told him that I was going to steal the ball and score.

What else are best friends for?

It's the One Above South Korea

As luck (or skill) would have it, my competitive team has collected four points off the last six available. I've played sweeper both games, letting in a miserly one goal off a quickly taken free kick.

In the first of those two games, I figured out something about my play style that needs to improve.

When a team really pressures me, I panic and my passing turns to absolute crap. The team was closing me down really quickly, and I was mildly* fortunate to escape with a shutout. Other than a few scares for both sides, it was a boring game that left the Hurricanes at two points - still, last in the standings. I've always felt my vision was good, but I suppose that's just my long passing when I actually have time on the ball. It'll just have to be something I work at.

Yesterday, I played with my competitive co-ed team; we thrashed a team 8-2 as I played midfield. I had three or four assists, and had a lot of good runs, but that combined with a practice that Jay and I had planned for the Hurricanes a day prior left me completely gassed for tonight's game.

I really am starting to feel the effects of day-in-day-out practicing and playing, and they're not pretty. Thankfully, after an easy outdoor co-ed game tomorrow, I'll have... A bloody practice the day after. But I do have Friday off. I suppose that's a consolation.

Tonight's game was a wild success against the fifth placed team. We were up three but allowed a cheap quick free kick goal, but aside from that there's not much to talk about.

I played the whole ninety, but I literally did not break a sweat. Most of my activity was spent clearing the odd long ball or telling my three defenders what to do, and I felt that I had a much better game than last weeks'. I still do wish to get a little more of a chance to move upfield, but we'll see. Today wasn't particularly good for that.

If I had a highlight of the night, it was a slide tackle that tapped the ball off the defender, but while the ball floated over me (and I was on the ground), I kicked it out of the way with my heel.

I was told I had a better game, but I still think that I need to improve.

* - It depends how you look at it.

"It's only fun until somebody loses an eye. Then it's a Turbofoul."

In the three games I've played in the last two days, I scored in two and played goalie in one of those. In the remaining game, I played sweeper one a huge field with a back three as opposed to a back four, so I got to dribble around a total of two people on the same run at the end of the game.

Yesterday at work, I played with the Wannabees yet again, to pass the time. I was in net, and it was ridiculous. The gym that my company uses gets incredibly humid in the summer, and yesterday, the humidity was at its finest. I slipped and slid, and at one point performed the splits quite well. Near the end of the game, I carried the ball up and shot when nobody closed me down, picking the bottom corner somewhat unintentionally. 2-2 was the final.

In the last game with Team G, I played a total of nine minutes thanks to a 4-man rotation for midfielders, and still scored. The ball popped out of a kerfuffle in the corner, and again, I wasn't closed down, so I rifled it to the far top corner from about 8 yards out.

Strangely enough, this was not two minutes after half time, immediately following half the team and one of my teammate's dads collectively chewing me out for passing too much, being dirty, not shaving, and not scoring.

I really didn't see the problem, I shaved about five days ago. Regardless, my beard lost us the game 6-4, in spite of not being scored on while I was on, and scoring one myself.

Now, for the Hurricanes competitive game tonight, we played our new 3-2-3-2 formation.

Surprisingly, it works well. I think some of the positions that people are played or not played in can be worked on, but for the most part, we have it right. I really would like to get into an attacking position, I think it could do us some good. I also know just the man to fill in the defensive spot I vacate, and that would be my compatriot Matt. Easily enough, our coach has him playing on the wing, and that would be my kind of position.

In the game itself, I made a couple mistakes that led to goals, but I also saved my team's asses a few times as well with some well timed slide tackles and some good shielding to give us goal kicks. At one point, I shielded a ball for about 8 yards while it trickled (and I do mean trickled) over the by-line. Thankfully, I didn't get my calves kicked in.

As the game went on, I grew more comfortable on the ball, eventually utilizing one of my new-found strengths, long passing, to great effect. I imagine it'd get even better if I didn't have to put full strength onto most balls, too. I completed 3/5 or some nice amount like that, which makes it surprisingly effective, considering the normal risk involved.

As pictures of the new turf on the field I played on tonight are scarce on the internet, it should suffice it to say that is has been the most fantastic surface I have ever played on. There were a couple strange bumps, but for the most part, it was blissful. One thing that took a bit of getting used to was the bounce on the ball, though, which was a little more severe than usual.

Refer to the "plastic pitches" of the 1980s for more info; I'm sure this one wasn't off. That still doesn't make it a bad pitch, it is by far the best I've ever played on. One thing I noticed, though, was the back pain at the end of the game for no apparent reason other than the stress the turf put on my muscles.

We lost 5-3 after giving up 3 leads. Before you ask, I have no idea why we stuck with three in the back after any three of those goals.

One tidbit I'd like to share before I check in for the night has to do with the U of W soccer team I intend on trying out for. If you refer to the last post, there is a link with the vaguest of details of the venture. In two years, the team intends on joining the CIS league, but for now, will enjoy the first year (but probably more) of its life in the MCAC league.

Last year's winner of the MCAC league was Providence College, which is apparently just outside Winnipeg. Now, I don't have much to base this on, but aside from a 18-2 win over Steinbach Bible College last season, a college that offers the course "Biblical Poetry II: Wisdom Literature" should not be taken seriously.

You know what? Forget tact, I'm going to just have a field day:

1. We have to watch out for the aforementioned Steinbach Bible College, they intend on making the course "Integrating Faith and Sport" a mandatory course for their athletes. I suppose Providence College has nine times the faith of SBC, then. Hopefully integration evens the playing field.
2. The "Canadian Mennonite University" also has a team, as does a French College in our city. That makes a four team league, with the relig-o-meter* reading a whopping 75%. I didn't even know it could withstand a reading that high. I also didn't know that two of those colleges existed.
3. Providence College has an enrollment of ~425 students, including a heap of seminary students. Factor in the gender split, and that leaves ~210 males in the college. Essentially, one-tenth of that is on the soccer team.
4. The course "Biblical Poetry II: Wisdom Literature" can be taken online. It begs the question; other than those suckered into the cinematic-sounding title, who would do that?
5. Have you ever seen an amazing, deeply religious soccer player? Soccer is a religion in and of itself, and it's impossible to have two.
   

I'm almost done.†



* - The Relig-o-meter is a patented device for reading into the levels of faith in a given space.
† - I have been working on this post for two and a quarter hours. It is 5:17 AM right now. Goodnight.

"Wrong number, but it can still be a threesome if you really want."

There are far too many games and much too little time to actually keep up with this, but I suppose I'll try my best.

Since we've last left off, I've had a bagful of games, mostly losses. There are doses of good news, however.

1. I broke a huge scoring drought recently. I'm now on a hot streak.
2. South Transcona District had a lead at one point today thanks to a goal of mine.
3. I bloody well scored from past half in another game today.

Sounds good, doesn't it? Well, it may just get better. Read this article about my university to find out more.

In spite of my university education nearing its end, I am convinced that I want to continue it should I get the opportunity to play university level football.

Of course it's a pipe dream, but the man who alerted me certainly has faith in me/is inflating my ego. Thanks, Sean.

Anyway, I had two games today. One with STD, and the other with Team Gigantic, playing calcetto.

Chronologically, the STD game was first, so we'll start there.

We played on a waterlogged pitch with a swamp down the far touchline. This seemed to be an advantage for me, as 4 minutes in, I turned after receiving a throw in and took off.

I had a good distance to cover, and I had beaten their old left back easily, but had hit the mire. The ball stuck in the soup as I just about passed it by. I yelled a curse (a team match was carded for doing the same later), scooped it, and continued on. Another 20 menters down the line, the ball hit a different section of the 2-3 inch deep swamp, and got stuck again. By now, the old guy had caught up to me, so I scooped it up, turned inside, and headed for goal, beating another man in the process.

As I went to shoot, my heel was clipped, and I drew the penalty shot. With nobody else wanting to take, I lined it up and intended to place it into the bottom right corner.

What I did not take into account was the uneven surface, deep mud, water patches and bad grass. My penalty literally rolled the the dead center of the net, occupied by a keeper that certainly hadn't quite moved.

Now what went through his mind next is beyond me, but the ball went underneath him as he flopped half-heartedly away from the ball.

I was puzzled, but thankful. It was probably the cheekiest penalty since this one. Unless, of course, intent is required.

But I suppose I should get more points for not being Francesco Totti*.

The rest of that game was a mess (not that the breakaway and penalty weren't) , but I suppose that's what you get when the league owner publicly predicts that you will lose 5-2.

I had noticed that every attack went through one player in the midfield, so I shut him down when I was on. He was tricky, but none of his team mates were overly decent, so we kept it scoreless until I went off ten minutes before half.

After half, this guy switched to striker and terrorized the weakest couple of players on the team, and the result was them scoring four unanswered in the second half.

I had a couple decent plays, most notably a lofted through ball to a striker making a run down the center, where he was mysteriously unmarked (or too fast). He fluffed the shot, naturally.

As it would turn out, the league owner was damn near right, we lost 5-1.

After attending a canceled practice for the Hurricanes (on account of only three people showing up on time and the coach being half an hour late with three other guys), I went to go watch a Team G calcetto game. For those not familiar, calcetto is essentially outdoor futsal.

A Calcetto field.

I ended up playing that game due to a short bench, and we murdered the other team. The first half wasn't so ugly, but nearing half, the floodgates opened, and that trend continued. I enjoyed it immensely, pulled out numerous one touch passes and goal eerily similar (field position and ball flight) to the following Beckham goal (to scale).

I'm still not cheeky, I swear.

Along with that goal, we had scored a few other nice ones. Hats off to the other team and Josh, though, for producing two goals that might just be nicer than mine. Josh's was a chest-controlled volley (that didn't hit a post), and the other team's was a flicked ball over our defender's head to an onrushing attacker, executed very cleanly.

I assisted a whole pile more in that game, and my team lost count after we had scored something like ten goals. Special mention to Jeff as well for burying a header off a corner that I had put in. That's probably the first goal off a corner that I've ever assisted.

Training has been going well, otherwise. I've been squeezing weights in when possible, I've been mostly leaving conditioning by the wayside. I suppose it's important that I become a mammoth if I'm to play sweeper for the Hurricanes. I really don't mind it, but I would love some stability in my positioning. In other Hurricanes news, we got our first point of the season last week. More to come, surely, if the team can ever attend a practice.

* - Beckham-esque goal excluded, I don't usually feel like chipping every goalie I come across, and in addition, I don't sport a shit eating grin nearly as well as Totti does.

"3, 2, 1, PS3"

Time for some actual content now, I suppose.

My soccer schedule's been packed recently, with the 8 or whatever amount of teams I'm on, and fatigue is kicking in pretty early in the season. On the weekend, the Hurricanes had a tournament with other St. James clubs.

First up, we played a side divisions lower than us. Three, if I remember correctly.

We were still giving trials to players and had one or two subs, and we were generally pretty terrible. One of our players (who has since learned) tried to do too much with it around our box with no defenders behind him, lost it, and we got scored on. It took the rest of the first half and most of the second to equalize, hitting a post in the process. The game ended tied.

I played striker, but I was completely isolated from my team. Absolutely nobody was able to find me, and there were few balls coming my way that I could do much with. All in all, we all had a terrible game.

But there were penalty shots to make up for it. I took the second shot and Jay took the third, and my team on the whole failed massively. Our first kicker put it in, and so did the other team's.

Approaching the spot from half, I realized that this was my first shootout. Place it bottom right, I thought to myself. I walked to the spot, I'm not sure why, but it felt right. It was a long walk too, so I had plenty of time to clear my mind and focus myself on that bottom right corner. It took me a long time to set the ball up on the spot, the spot itself was in a hole, and I wanted the ball on the front edge of it.

Bottom right. Bottom right. Bottom right.

On the run-up which was more of a jog up, I changed my mind and went with it, passing it into the bottom left corner. Afterwards, I was told by my team mate Keir* that I looked "super chill" executing the whole thing, which the team had a good laugh about. I suppose it was ballsy to pass it in, but of the remaining three shooters from our team, two hit the goalie, and Keir blasted in over and wide a la David Beckham.

Our second game started better, and I moved from striker to the wing. We still couldn't score for the life of us regardless of the fact that I set up a few good opportunities. We were quite close a couple times and hit the post another few, and then late in the second half, our defence let a man by, who shot, hit the crossbar, and had the ball fall to another player of theirs. He volleyed in, and we lost our third game of the season by one goal or penalties.

The day after that tournament, I had my first game with STD, or South Transcona District. Suitable abbreviation, I suppose. I played right back first half and then stopper second. We lost 3-0, but I had their best player in my pocket for the entire match. He was an attacking midfield who liked to carry the ball, and in reality he played a free role.

The day after that, the Hurricane played again. I played sweeper in lieu of Jay's absence. I was responsible for the a goal scored against us, passing it right to their player when I was on the side. We lost 2-1, though I made many great slide tackles and won a ton of balls in the air. The only other noticeable low point was getting megged in the corner by a big strong black guy. I redeemed myself a few times by making a couple last-ditch slide tackles on him though, including one in the box that the ref had to take a good look at.

We picked up our game in the second half, and won the half, but that's not going to suffice.

* - Keir and I went to elementary school together and didn't like each other much, but we're best of pals on the team, it's hilarious. And great.

"And No Cyborgs"

Well, cripes, we're back, yet again.

In the last few months, I've been busy like never before.

Of course, that was until exams ended at the end of April, and since then I have mostly been relaxing, playing soccer, and really, really enjoying my free time. There's been a bit of work interspersed, but for the most part, my priorities have been perfectly in line with a life of maximal enjoyment.

I'm not sure where I left off, but here's the grand finale to the winter season that has been so anticipated:

1. One of Team Gigantic's teams made the playoffs only to get knocked out in the first round, and the weaker version of Team Gigantic made it to the finals, beating the #1 seed along the way. I had a fancy little goal in that game where off a goal kick, it hit two heads, came to me while I ran at the opposition's goal, made a cute cushioned header over a player, and then let it fall before burying it. I love when teams get antsy in the playoffs.
2. The Chillies crashed out of the playoffs despite being third seed.
3. I never played playoffs with Red Dogs.
4. Rec league teams were... Pretty recreational.

But fellows, now, it is the summer.

This means many things: tanning, swimming, training, and good looking girls everywhere. However, most of all; mens soccer is back in my life in a big way.

I almost beat a world record by having 10 teams this summer, and if not for work, I'd have done it. They would've been as follows:

1. St. James Hurricane - The good old men's team of last summer, now with Jay and Steve!
2. South Transcona Dynamo (STD) - A mens team with hangovers, a lack of fitness, and meagre opposition that still beats my team.
3. The Cooligans - An indoor team that I was scouted for by two separate people who separately had the idea to court me onto their team.
4. The Electric Shoes - And yes, they are back too.
5. Team Gigantic.
6. Team Gigantic's feeder* team, Even Bigger.
7. The Wannabees.
   
8. Team Gigantic's outdoor calcetto team.
9. The Chilly Willies, an outdoor rec league co-ed team with friends mostly from the Chilly Willies.
   
10. The Beautiful people, another outdoor rec league co-ed team with friends mostly from the Chillies.

There were probably another one or two, as well. It's probably erring on the side of overkill when it actually takes some effort to recall which teams you're on, but my legs don't seem to mind. Also note that for the last three teams of that list, I am a substitute, just in case one is needed.

Regardless of how many teams I'm on, it's 4:30 in the morning and I need to sleep.

Action comes tomorrow.

* - By feeder, I mean the place where we put players who want to play more, and the extra players the team has signed up that aren't as good as others.

"You sound like an anorexic"

I've ended a tiny cold streak recently, yesterday and (some of) today I wasn't playing very well. Granted, I scored about 6 in the last couple days, but for the most part, the only thing that's been on has been my volleying. I've been hitting (with both feet) the back of the net consistently with them.

In spite of a slow start at the University Club (in particular my passing and control), I was picked third overall today when we had a schoolyard-style draft. I suppose it's my work rate that got me there, or maybe the couple lovely goals I had. The one that sticks out in particular was the control of a ball in air, and a hard volley into the top-left corner with my left foot on the second touch. After my passing and touch came back a bit, I felt much better about the game.

Yesterday, the Chillies game was a disaster (for me). Weak opposition, tons of chances, only two goals when I could've have five. My two goals (in the 6-1 win, their 1 was my fault, mostly) were two volleyed one-timers from one-twos, both coming when the opposition played with a man down due to a girl going absolutely savage on one of our own. Hair was pulled and everything.

Tonight, a game with the Red Dogs, that men's team that I'm helping out in the playoff push. Who knows, with some of the circus shots I've had recently, another first-half hat trick may be in the cards.

He Doesn't Know (How to Play)

Yesterday was one of those days where you're sore to the point of lying down most of the day, so I did just that. At work, I played a game and a half, but I stayed in net for the full game with Off in the Woods. I got a bit of strategy going with that team, they used me at the back quite a bit and we played offensively. I let in three and none were scored, but my long balls got some work.

Today I felt better, and after the easiest exam I've ever taken, I played with the U of W soccer club. There were dozens (two dozen, to be exact) of players there today, so I made a team with some friends from present and future co-ed teams. After we got our asses handed to us a couple times and the crowd thinned out, we divided into two teams and played to 15. With a couple players that didn't match the skill level of the bunch of black guys that we played against, we ended up demolishing them 15-2. We passed incredibly, and not only defended well but came back to defend in numbers.

I played a pivotal role in the win, I assisted at least eight or nine of the goals, had a goal line clearance on a clear cut breakaway, and scored once from a nice low ranged shot. A couple of my assists were nice too. A couple stick out in my mind: the first, I flicked the ball over a defender's head to an open team mate making a run right next to the net from about 20 yards away. In the second, I took a ball out of the air, and my first touch set me up for an aerial pass that I made to an open team mate running to the far post, unmarked.

Regardless, while the opposition was skilled, they were only really with footwork, whille my team had some with footwork, a finisher (who "doesn't play often", but I told him to play up because I saw he had an eye for the open spaces, good positioning, and great finishing), a playmaker, and couple good defenders.

The aforementioned finisher scores six or seven goals, many of them assisted by me. We counter attacked well, and I found that the other team tended to leave him alone, probably because he wasn't as skillful as the rest of the players.

We had a great game, using each of our strengths very well, while exploiting the weaknesses of the other team brilliantly.

By the end of the game, I had garnered the nickname "Chelsea" for the jersey I wore.

Can't say I minded it, really.

"Now the Game can Begin"

I finally made it out to my school's twice weekly futsal group, and I saw a few familiar faces from Jahan's old league, including Victor, the Brazilian with appropriate footwork that remembered my name quicker than I his (and I'm pretty decent with names). I ended up marking him for quite a while, and he's still good, but I've definitely improved compared to this time last year in all aspects.

With the small ball, it seemed easy to do tricks and such, and I ended up with five or six goals and around ten assists over the two hour game. There were other highlights, of course (like nutmegging some pretty decent guy) and all in all, it was good fun and a good challenge. In particular, it was physically demanding; I'm exhausted now, though that could also be due to waking up at seven A.M. for the first time in months.

It's definitely something I'm going to try to get to every chance possible, if it wasn't second division ball, practicing, and a high number of games that made me better, it was Jahan's league and teams. Most days, I expect it to be only a few people, but we'll see. Even if there aren't many people, it'll still be good competition and great training.

I also have a strength training routine planned out, and I should begin that soon as well; most likely Friday. The rest of my week is filled with physical activity.

"Josh, grow a pair." "No way!"

Darn decent day, today.

I've been crap with training and the diet though. That beings said, in spite of how it may sound, there is no diet or true training regime.

However, no favors are done to any sort of bodily mechanism when I get McDonalds for dinner. What else is open at 10 at night, though? I ought to start packing my own meals, really. It's too bad I enjoy packing light so much. As well, there are a ton of logistics to go with it all. I have to say, baby steps must be taken though. We'll start with these for a week, I suppose:

1. Greasy food kept to an absolute minimum. The odd toad burger is fine, we'll say one cheat meal per week.
2. Water is the only beverage that should be consumed. Inebriation counts as a cheat meal.
3. No junk food, including snacks.

That should do for a week, I'll modify it at the end of the week. Training is difficult at the best of times, but I think regular games are enough for now. I'd like to use the school gym, but we'll see with time constraints and all.

The first (half) game was with a new team, sitting comfortably at the very bottom of division three. If any long-time viewers remember, I played in division 4 at the Highlander last winter season, and my team found it hard and sat on the bottom of the table. If I recall correctly (which I do), the White Eagles played them at one point in the "Battle of the Colored Animals". Due to bad attendance I was asked to come out, so I did, and played forward, which was really more of a free role.

The precession of events was strange, when it came down to it. Literally, I would get the ball, and nobody on their team would be able to do a thing. There were times where I'd take shot after shot for fun, their entire team would stand around. I scored on a left footed volley, a right footed volley, and a shot from the flank after I burned a defender. I had two assists as well, a left footed cross on a free kick to the far post that was headed in, and a ball I sent across the from of the net, right in front of it, for a tap-in.

When I left at half time, we were leading 7-0. We eventually won 12-1, and this stands as the greatest win margin thus far this season (in that league). The funny thing is that last week the very same two teams met, and my team was beaten 5-1.

Fun fact; I'm tied for 43rd on the scoring chart.

Here are some of the more interesting stats. I don't believe the Goals Scored stat has been updated. Also note the routine drubbings Red Dogs have faced this season.

At any rate, it was a good half game. The Chilly Willies game was the same in a different way; I also scored a hat trick, but had lost any sort of lustre. My three goals were as follows:

1. A tap into an empty from an impossible-to-miss distance*.
2. A tapped in ball between an opponents legs while he struggled to clear the ball.
3. A breakaway goal that was originally saved by the keeper, only to bounce off the guy running right behind me and into the top corner. The keeper was promptly tread on by his own player.

Three laughable goals, with me laughing all the way to the (goal) bank for the second time that night. I believe that puts me back in the top eight after a whole whack of missed games.

Fun fact; Twice, people complained about absolutely (and purposely) demolishing me on the field. Only once did the ref actually care, and he actually put up with the other guy saying that he was going to push me if I pushed him, which I didn't. It was (actually) just an out-classing (in more ways than one). The other ref yelled at my team's bench for protesting his terrible decision.

Curse my repertoire with referees. Apparently, I don't get calls because "I can bounce right back up". Go figure, no wonder I'm hurting†. Tune in next time for...

"Ridiculous Referees", or, "Greg is Dead because he is Fragile".

Same bad time, same bad URL†.

* - Please note that there are no impossible-to-miss distances in football. See: Scotland's Iwulemo.
† - I am actually hurting because I slid to block a ball, but fell on my ass much too hard. My left cheek is in severe discomfort.
‡ - Please note that the URL may change, due to the original URL being a mere placeholder for some fantastic idea that was eventually to stroll into my mind. Also, stay tuned for layout changes. Maybe.

The Dutch have a saying...

Out of my own zeal, I had a foray as forward tonight. I did well, though I did neglect a crucial defensive duty at one point that allowed a goal that eventually would be the difference from getting a result. We lost 6-5 in a very fun game against a team that would be responsible for some good times.

So good, in fact, that we stayed half an hour late and played a scrub match on the open field against them.

Personally, my game went well. I didn't score, but I was threatening and creative. I would venture to say almost too creative.

Excuse my ego, but at one point I may've been as clever and quick-witted as I'll ever be in the span of half a second. You might even call me a flair player after witnessing my exploits.

On a dangerous diagonal run in front of their goal, I drew the attention of a defender and their goalie in a couple touches. I noticed one of our players coming in towards to far post behind me, effectively making a criss-cross with me. She was one of our defenders who never usually scores, so I wanted to make it easy. In that run, I stopped the ball and fooled their entire team, allowing for an open shot on goal which in turn was my fanciest assist ever.

My holding-up was good, my use of space was good, my ability to open the field up was useful; quite basically I make a decent forward. It's up for debate if I'm a better forward than midfielder, but as it stands, I don't mind playing both. Perhaps one hit against me playing forward is my presumed entitlement towards not defending - when we won a ball back I prepared to run up, though we lost it soon after. I ought to have ran back and defended a goal scorer, but I had lazy forward syndrome; which is an officially catalogued disorder in the DSM-IV. Best defined, its when a forward doesn't defend when he or she should.

Let's face it though, forwards are a intrinsicly fragile breed. I've heard feeling bad about letting in goals as an excuse for one to not play defense in order to give others a turn. The worst part? The excuse worked (and still does to this day).

Other notable points include burning a defender (who was either taking away my left footed shot or trying to force me a few miles to the edge of the pitch) with a stepover and shooting (horribly wide on a far post attempt), or having my first shot in the scrub game nestle itself right inside the edge of the goal from a long volley. Next time, I suppose.

Or maybe I'll just play defense to not allow counterattacks.

"He's Italian... But boy, is he good"

There's a first time for everything. Some notable examples:

1. The conception of the universe.
2. An indirect left footed free-kick from 25 yards out that ends up in the net (with credit to me).
3. A post before a game.

I've skipped updating on a couple recent games, but I figure the minutae are redundant anyway. Suffice it to say that my defending's been pretty spot on these last few days, as well as my passing. My shooting? Ask the two or three shots I've taken. I need to ditch this idea that I have to spread the ball to everybody without fear of social backlash. I pass (more than) enough, I've maybe had five or six shots since my last post, which would be at least four games. Passing has been spectacular lately, I can find open players like nobody's business. Too bad it's not resulted in much.

One neat thing that happened yesterday was the quickest two touches I've ever had that resulted in a goal. It happened in about a quarter of a second, and found the bottom corner. A tidy goal to say the least. I managed to trap it with a planted foot while winding up the shot. Interesting

Today's game is against a team that's beaten us, but aside from that has largely been unsuccessful. We're missing a handful of players, but the playtime might be for the best; we'll see what we can do. Who knows where I'll be playing tonight, I'm guessing Mid, but with the absentees, I could be anywhere.

In other news, I've had a team offer for outdoor that I'm unsure about. What I'm looking for is playtime and practice time, and secondarily I'd like to get free registration and upper-level ball.

I'll have to start squeezing my contacts to see what I can do.

"Player of the game is Derek's hair"

On Saturday night, we had a late game. 11 PM, to be precise. This was (obviously) hellaciously late, and to compound it all, we had a referee who is quite normally terrible. The game wasn't so bad, we won comfortably at 5-3 (With their last two coming late thanks to some defensive sloppiness), and I scored a treat and a half of a goal near in the first half.

The goal was a half volley taken down with my chest on the run after I headed it over some person then ran around them. I assisted another goal delivering a low cross inside the box to an unmarked teammate (my run had taken them all off him).

I've worked out the formation for the 7-a-side outdoor season recently, and in spite of spending about an hour tinkering with new formations (2-2-3, 2-3-2, etc...), I settled on pretty much the same formation as we've always used, the 3-3-1, with one minor difference; moving one of the defenders into a holding midfield role, acting as a deep-lying playmaker. The result is a 2-1-3-1, where the midfield plays higher up the pitch than usual. Width is also key in this formation, I hope to use it to spread defenses out with the advanced midfielders.

The positions will be a bit different, we used to all come back on defense, but now we'll be trying to counter as much as possible, so the wings will almost exclusively play wide and in an attacking manner. I'm debating getting the striker and attacking midfielder to come back, creating a huge gap in the center of the field when we're defending. The first attacking pass will be out wide, then the striker and attacking mid will break out and counter, with the holding midfielder following them shortly. From there, the strategy would be to (probably) either carry it up the side, deliver a lead pass to the striker, or a square pass to the attacking midfielder. Aside from the counter, generally play would be wide and involve working it around the defense, spreading them out, and counting on go-and-gos and individual skill to split the defense.

This season, pre-season practices will be (somewhat) mandatory, as well, in order to show interest in playing. We had a few issues last year with attendance, so hopefully this makes the team take it more seriously. Maybe, if there were a little more competition the team would take it more seriously as well.

Normally, I'm a pretty optimistic fellow, though tonight's game against friendly rivals Superfriends spells trouble for us. They're atop the league with a perfect record and a massive amount of goals scored for, and their goals against record is even better.

Anything but a drubbing would be a positive result, but we'll see.

Knock knock

Hopefully these two most recent updates aren't just a temporary glimmer in the vast emptiness of my recent blogging activity. I do intend on making updating a regular occurance again, but the usual cop out of "I've too much to do" seems likely.

One thing that's recently become a strength of mine is tactical awareness. For example, I've seen that with Team G, teams tend to defend way behind us, possibly due to their own modifications. Let's face it, we have one trick in the bag; the counterattack.

If you compare the amount of goals scored from set pieces/open play/counters, you would probably find that we score minimally on set pieces (free kicks taken as shots), incredibly rarely during open play, and almost entirely on the counter.

I've a few theories as to why this is the case:

1. Most of the players have little to no actual soccer training.
2. Everybody wants deadly through balls so they can get the goal (we're historically a team with minimal passing).
3. It suits certain players on the team. Early in our history, frequently Jay would just carry the ball the entire way to the goal. The strategy that worked for a while was that forwards would move up, dragging defenders from Jay.
4. We have fast players and a few midfielders with a good eye for spaces in the defense that can be exploited.
5. Nobody knows to come to passes when they're not through balls, or make themselves space. With that, few of us simply do not know how to play in open play.

Regardless, today, I noticed that the team I played against with the Chilly Willies was quite slow to defend, so counter attacking really took them apart. I believe the final score was 8-3, and I had a goal and at least one assist, and a couple good chances thanks to good movement.

My one goal was quite fancy. It was a 3-on-3, so I took a bit of time to move the ball into a good attacking position. At about a 13 yards out, I noticed I still had quite a bit of space, so I let loose a relatively tame shot for the top left corner. My accuracy was spot on, thankfully.

I passed smartly today, almost scored on a free kick, and found good space for passes and runs. My marking and defense was unspectacular, but it wasn't really required - I forced their star player to long shots and made a few important steals and blocks.

There were a few bloopers though, including a handball in my team's penalty box that went unseen by pretty much everybody (in my defense, it was rifled and just hit my arm that was near my body), and I blew a good chance when a cross surprised me and hit me in the chest right in front of the opposition's net.

At one point I unleashed a cute little volley with my left foot right at the goalkeeper from close range, by it was unfortunately saved. However, good can be taken from that - my left foot is becoming better daily. And to think, a couple years back, I was absolute crap with it.

My next game is Friday, and tomorrow I've got a fairly packed schedule that I need to find time to write a research proposal due the day after. On the positive side, it's only a few hundred words, if that. It's for that coaching young sprouts class, and I'd like to write on something quite relevent to footie, if possible. I've been tinkering with the idea of effective warm-ups at the beginning of practice, but we'll see.

"Ahh, the three minute mark. When retards make themselves known."

I've been far too busy to even consider updating, but rest assured, an update is needed and in demand (!).

To give a brief rundown of my life in its current state:

• I've been practically living with Stephen and Carissa as there's an issue with my license and my bad decision to wait until March to get a one-piece license. Oppsie.
• I'm back at work, still paying off the good old Toronto trip of last summer. Particularly proud of a hundred dollar dent I made yesterday.
• I'm back at school, learning the ins and outs of 6 classes this term: History of Science, History of Modern Europe, Coaching Basics, Social Psychology, Genetics in Psychology, and Coaching Soccer¹.
• I'm playing on six teams, and was invited on three (though one was a joke) teams today. The joke team was Ballistic, a team with a clear grudge against us, and particularly me.

I played twice today, scored a hattrick to end a goal drought that was due to passing far too much. The first was a ball coming to me in the box while I was relatively unmarked, so I picked the corner of one of the tiny OLV nets. The second was a tap in from close range, and the third was a hideous deflection. This was with Off in the Woods.

Earlier, I had gone a touch overboard in my instructing soccer class and slide tackled quite close to somebody who softly touched a ball into a net. Morals of the story:

1. Don't be a puss, just bloody well do it.
2. I didn't hurt him.
3. Ryan's a cool guy.

But really, coaching soccer, the course, is amazing. We've had presentations from some interesting people, create our own questions for the exam, and coach each other exercises every other day.

I've also got into reading about soccer, as well. I picked up this book from the library from the early eighties about coaching the whirl. Absolutely amazing, and what's better is that I can pick it up for fifteen cents. Of course, the material is a touch dated, but Christ, I'm on my second read through, and if that isn't the most amazing in the universe², I'd rather not try to fathom what is.

I've turned into a much more clinical passer lately, at the expense of having more goals. I'm really not sure what is better; I often see a few chances come and go for those that lack a finishing grace.

Though I do think I'm starting to develop a reputation playing against teams. So often, people will back off me and give me many, many seconds on the ball before I do something. In an unrelated but still interesting note, I think I'm turning into an ideal defender too. Strange.

Well, thoughts are turning into a jumble, so I ought to stop listening to prog rock and go to bed. I promise, I'll get more flamboyant with my writing again soon, I just needed a warm-up.

Coming soon; Jahan makes a return to the blog.

¹ - Ordered from moderately interesting to "bloody hell, I get to play footie for a class".
² - I am not much of a reader.

She ran through us like a... Unicorn...

I had a strange day today. For starters, I have had three hours of sleep in the last 37, and am feeling fine. Could I non-consciously be shifting to a polyphasic sleep schedule? Who knows.

Team G had a game last night, followed by a good old-fashioned meal, after which Derek and I hung out and spoke of the game and Thierry Henry's handball. I beat Derek to his house, having to drop of Steve and Carissa, so I decided to catch a few z's in my car, which recently had his 250-thousandth kilometerday, on which I bought him (Charlie, the car) an X-treme car wash.

Derek woke me in in the most horrifying way I've ever experienced; he shook the car. What must have been one second of confusion felt much longer than that, and I felt as though I had just driven my car into a river, with Steve and Carissa inside. What happened next is beyond me, but I'm pretty sure I tried to say sorry to Steve and Carissa for killing them, before flinging various items around my car so violently I messed up my rear-view mirror in the process.

All the while, Derek was laughing hysterically outside of the car while I panicked for my life, at two in the morning, on his driveway. What else could friends possibly be for?

I'm glad it happened though, for I think I've learned a few things from the experience:

• I've learned that it's mighty scary.
• I've learned the importance of not driving your car into a river.
• I've experienced it, so the next time it happens I should be able to cope with it better. That, or I'll just curl up into a ball and whimper if it ever happens again.

So after Derek and I went over the game, I left for home, where a pleasant surprise awaited me; I had an envelope from my university containing a test I had taken a few weeks prior on my desk. I opened it up, and it turns out I aced it. As in, actually, 100% aced it. I'm not sure how I did that, I had an hour and a half of sleep, and I rushed through all of the online lectures while playing video games.

The game Derek and I went over was a rough one with a ref that (Resa and I both believe) had a grudge on our team, and in particular me, for fouling him pretty badly a couple weeks back. I was fouled for card-able offenses at least 4 times, none of them resulting in cards. I didn't get injured, but here's a short run down of some of the more marquee moments I was fouled in.

First, there's my first few touches of the ball. I had two defenders in front of me, so I scooped it lightly between them and then went off the the races. I ran around the first guy's outstretched leg, then got an absolute haymaker of a toe-punt to the shin.

Second, I went up to win a header, and won it. In fact, I didn't even touch the guy, but when I came down I was running alongside him. I'm not sure why, but he decided this an excellent time to backhand me in the chest somewhat lightly. I told him in a nutshell that that's not how you play football, and he responded by emphatically ("Bang!") dispossessing me a few minutes later, when I had received a bad pass. I showed the idiot what was up, and as he ran down the sidelines once, I nudged him and knocked the ball away pretty well.

Third, fourth, fifth, and probably a few more are quite similar in nature; I had ran by some defender(s) and I was subsequently fouled pretty much every time.

With what could've been my Waterloo had I not made a very important decision earlier that day*, I was holding the ball up in the corner against two players. One girl decided to try and neuter me. My legs were spread, so this wench decided to hoof me as hard as she could in the slats. Oddly enough, the amoebic nature of my junk decided to render the entirety of this deathblow useless, but I was still a little deranged from the attempt. At this point I was done with the terrible officiating, so I quite literally thrust my ass out to push this girl away, and I knocked the behemoth clean over. The other guy that I had mentioned was covering me tried to pin me in the corner by closing me down was easily dangled, and he ended up falling over as I went backwards up our sideline slightly. I cut in with the ball on my right foot, and attracted yet another defender, who I handled with speed in a short couple of steps. His attempt to block the shot that housed the anger of three-hundred legions of ballistic† vikings was futile, and he fell over in the process, as well. The shot screamed, no, roared towards the near post, and sent their goalie the entirely wrong way, effectively leaving him grounded as well.

I turned around, and walked off the field in a quiet state, if I remember correctly. I had, in one way or another, bested four of six of their entire team in a few short seconds, but at that moment, it didn't seem like it. Until Resa told me at dinner, I had no idea that there were three of them, not including the goalie, still on the ground as I walked back to the bench.

It's strange, sometimes in games I just turn completely emotionless, and don't even celebrate goals I score. What I'm about to say definitely would warrant somebody to say "Stop being such a bloody moron", but, in complete honesty, it seems like I actually go into a strange trance-like state for a short while. Today was a fine example, but another I can refer to was when I scored the goal that put us into the finals of our title-winning year; I turned around and began walking calmly to centre, and about ten seconds later the realization hit me that I had just done what I did, and I jumped into the air throwing a triumphant fist pump to the heavens. I think I screamed a little too, and ran out really fast with, well, a look quite similar to what I would perceive a combination of every expression in the following picture.

And yes, my hands were posed in the same way. However, imagine all of that, while running around wildly.

Apparently, good things happen in the trance, and so I need to figure out how to force it upon myself as opposed to waiting to have it thrust onto me by some strange, unpredictable circumstance. I've noticed it occurs when I'm extremely focused or extremely driven, the first being an example of the playoff goal instance, and the second being an example of how I wanted to just rip the opposition apart myself. Insult me if you will, but I'm genuinely convinced that this isn't some strange notion I get about myself because I'm as vain as they come.

Over dinner, we discussed what it looked like from the bench when the girl tried to put me in a world of pain, and the common consensus was that the following picture fit the bill quite nicely. In fact, the event reminded Jay of this picture.

Sans screaming and with more blind determination, of course. And yes, I actually did see her knee on the wrong side of my body.

In a game that should have resulted in a drubbing in our favor, we won 4-1, and I believe that is largely due to the officiating. I assisted one of the other goals when I directed a header to a team mate off a clearance, and created a double-"Ohhh" moment from our bench when I played a fantastic no-look one-two with Shaun which resulted in volleys that were just shy for both of us.

The more I think about it, the more I realize how absolutely hilarious it was that I had no emotional or physical component to go along with being kicked in the danger zone, and that it had done so much as only justify me to ass-check that girl.

There is no question in my mind, I must have seemed like a psycho, a robot, or a psychotic robot.

* - I had no clean compression shorts, so I was going to purchase some that day. I distinctly remember telling Steve that if I were to forget to buy a pair, I'd play commando. I did forget, and I did play commando. I am incredibly thankful for it; had I not, my package would have likely been held in place by the shorts, and I would probably be hospitalized right now while some unfortunate doctor would be searching my intestines for one of my testicles, and the field of the coverall for the other.

† - Pun alert. The team we played was Ballistic. I suppose "really mean" would fit in there as well, but that's not the team we faced.

Alright, Ronaldo.

Good old two-post Thursdays.

I really think that the first post today will be a "classic" of this blog, if this blog were to ever garner the recognition of more than one fan. Thanks Derek.

Not a few hours ago, Team G played at the Coverall. Turns out any rivals we had were moved up in the divisional hierarchy, as well as two of the three guys who really have a chance to catch me in the top scorer's list. The other is Jeff, on my own team, and he's at six. I am confident, but you really wouldn't believe this guy. He's impossible to describe as a person or football player without the words "hard shot", "spastic", and "lucky", or any of their synonyms.

Don't get me wrong, he's a great guy, except for when he used Dan's hand to smack me in the face.

But really, I'm not sure how he does it. Like a few of our team mates, he takes shots from impossible angles, and he often runs down the boards right into people. Somehow, the ball and him get by, ad he keeps going. This fellow has absolutely no technique, other than the variety required for ludicrously hard shots, nor does he have any position sense. He's a cherry-picking midfielder, if you will, but he somehow gets back to defend. I don't play on the same line as him often (both of us being midfielders in a 2-1-2 formation), but from my understanding, people that play with him just let him do his thing, whatever it may be.

I recall the first time I saw him play, he wanted to use a move to pass a defender, so he put his hands out as though he were pushing an enormous stone that was quite close to him, and moved his hands up and down in small, quick movements, while stepping quite rapidly, all the while, going at a quick speed down the field with the ball somewhat near his feet. If I recall correctly, the result was him flying into the boards and falling over due to nobody's fault but his own. Another half decent analogy for the maneuver would be giving a large person a brisk Eastern-European-style massage, while preforming some sort of sacred ceremonial dance taken from the finest medicine men of the Western Aboriginals.

To this day, I've never seen him attempt a step-over, lower a shoulder (for faking purposes), or (god forbid) try his luck with a roulette, but somehow, he doesn't need them. He's a fast kid with a great work rate, and the way he runs down the field screams "Watch out, seriously, I'll hurt the both of us."

To this day, he denies ever flailing his arms while running, but everybody else (including me) attests to it. I must say, I do a pretty good impression of it, myself.

Reading this, you may think to yourself, "This kid's a threat to your top-scoring superiority?" Yes, he is. Unless, of course, his uncontrollable body ends up breaking his foot again by missing one of his howitzer-esque shots and kicking the ground. His blessing was a curse in that instance.

Today, the team we played really didn't put up a fight. We won 9-2, or something like that, and I scored on three volleys with my right foot. I should've had more, but I had a bit of an off day. Today was one of those games where your opponents don't close you down, they didn't block your shots, and they didn't really run much. Maybe I should find some stiffer competition, because I think I played down a slight bit. While I was juggling at half, their goalie kept calling me Ronaldo (at least three or four times). I'm not sure if he was heckling me or whatever, but I'll take it all as a compliment.

Jeff scored three as well. The first was a free kick he shot the the bottom-center of the net, the next was a hard shot from an impossible angle, and then the last was a hard shot after running through (literally, they line up on the boards and he just squeezes by) two or three players, then the goalie.

That being said, I'm still above him by five, four games in.

* - Denotes that they are no longer in this league. FC Inter was moved up, and Colin was moved up to the C team.

This is most definitely going to go ass-up on me, as I asked the league manager if there'll be trophies for the top scorers. He said no, but I arranged with him to pay for my own trophy. Karma is a cruel mistress, though, so I'm on the lookout.

I don't think I've ever been so hungry for anything though, really. Except natural requirements, such as sleep, or food. Look at the last few times of posts, my slumber schedule is truly "whack". Some might even say I have DSPS, and I'll give you a hint; It's not Defense Support Program Satellite.

Though I'm sure I wouldn't having mind that.

I am working on getting out of this (commonly occurring) nocturnal phase. Just yesterday, I went to my first morning class in weeks, right about at the time I'd be a few hours into my sleep. On my way to school, I saw two sheep just hanging out at the side of the road, and began to laugh for no good reason. Do you get the irony that I just now got myself? If not, give it a bit of thought first, please.† After my morning courses, I went home and slept for four and a half hours, then went to work, then the game. I should be tired, having four-and-a-half hours of sleep in the last thirty-nine. However, I'm not all that sleepy, so I'll leave you with a decent story.

Today, at work, an extraordinarily beautiful girl came in with a team, and as I set up the net, began to talk to me. I had my trusty Wolverine Badminton shirt on, so she asked if I came from West Kildonan Collegiate, the school of the Wolverines. I said yeah, and we spoke about graduating classes. She graduated three years before me (2003), and we joked around and spoke about about other things for a while. Things were going truly well. When we got to the names part, I she turned out to be a Michelle. Michelle looked somewhat familiar, but I had assumed that was because she went to my school at the same time I did. As it turns out, she was a good friend of my older sister's, and I knew this because of her last name.

Immediately, any chances to treat this fine lady to a wonderful night out went down the drain, and you may be asking why. Well, back when my sister hung out with her pals at my house, there was one instance where they were watching some strange dance-music television show where people just clubbed it up and were videotaped. I was offered five dollars by one of my sister's other pals to imitate how the dancers danced on the television.

Being around 10-12 years old, I gladly accepted. Five chocolate bars was a veritable gold mine for a chocolate-craving, hyperactive banshee, you know. I still don't regret it.

I really have to move these two-post days to Tuesday.

† - I should've been counting sheep as I was counting sheep.

The Dental Episode

I suppose, with yesterday and today's games, I should do yesterday's first.

On Tuesday, I played three of the four games at work. All three were largely uneventful, and the last was one I ought to have been reffing anyway.

When I say largely uneventful, aside from some assists and such, there was one occurrence. I chipped a tooth.

Many might think, "Oh, well, it's small, so whatever."

Yes and no.

Yes, in the sense that it can be fixed. Also yes, in the sense that it can be fixed.

No, in the sense that I hate having "permanent fixes" in my mouth. It just doesn't feel like the real thing. I'm not sure why, but I've always been a purist in those regards. If you know me well, you may know that I'm not a fan of tattoos, piercings, et cetera. I feel like some old grandpa at times with my beliefs, but I suppose there's a decent reason. My feelings used to be way stronger, but in recent months they've abated. Maybe I just don't care as much anymore.

Anyways...

I bloody well hate damaging my teeth, but I suppose I cut a pretty understanding character when I just said "Ow" then spit out a chunk of tooth. A small one, at that, but nevertheless, a part of my tooth. I'll go to the dentist's to cap it up tomorrow, or something, but I'll most likely postpone it weeks.

Perhaps not though, I am a pretty vain person, and I do recognize that the last time I was at the dentist's office, I was fully anesthetized, and decided that after my wisdom teeth were removed, I could walk out of the office without help from the nurse. And that I could drive.

Thankfully, my dad was there, and didn't let me drive.

Anyways...

My dental agenda is to get everything fixed up after my soccer "career" is done. Braces, filings, hopefully no fillings, and all that stuff. Here is a fun collection of dental Greg facts for you:

• I had a small cover-like-object placed over a front tooth as a child because of some discoloration.
• The only other time I've had chipped teeth was the result of trying to backflip off a tube that was being pulled by a boat going a handful of kilometers an hour. I chipped both front teeth (central incisors).
• On one of my lateral incisors, I have what looks like a small "L" that might also be a chip. It's strange, because it's on the face, not a corner. I was always suspicious of my sister carving it on me when I was younger, as her name starts with "L"; Lindsey.
• I required four days of healing and no pain killers while healing from my wisdom teeth surgery. The two more annoying parts of the procedure were that I got rice stuck in the gaps left behind the day after, and that I coughed up a piece of bloody gauze a couple days after that. I do realize, I had it good compared to many who get their wisdom teeth removed.
  

Anyways...

The damage came from a stray ball kicked by one of those girls who just lashes at the ball with her arms pressed against her chest in the fashion that her softly closed hands are inches from a chin home to a quivering look of worry. Other damage included a bit tongue, a sprained jaw, and my ego.

Figure that one out.

In fact, figure out everything I just posted.

In other news, the rest of the soccer that night was pretty dull, aside from teams bothering me to see the chipped tooth which I was ashamed to show them, and a pretty rough game at the end of the night. All three teams I played on lost. Do I ever hate small nets.

Ha ha you just got judged by a girl with shorts cut to her labia.

Sunday's Chillies game was against a tough team, against at least one player that I've faced before. He's pretty good, and definitely used to be better than me, but I really think that I've progressed to the point of being a better player than him. That being said, we vary in many attributes, and he's more of a striker than I am (better finishing, harder shot), but my dribbling is better, my left foot's better, and I can contain him while playing defense, while he can't contain me.

That being said, he scored the first goal for the opposition as I (sort of) marked him, because I was pulled off my marker because a teammate got dangled. I ran at the guy who got by, and he had a shot, but he passed it.

I assisted one of our goals when I sprinted up with the ball with one man to beat, but beyond that, I had no other direct contributions. I missed two free kicks fairly badly, too.

However, I was crowned king of the dangles by rainbowing some guy pretty badly. I'd have had a good shot on goal had I not been fouled.

Mine was better. Seriously.

But I bloody well rainbowed a guy. It was the best thing I have ever done in my entire life. It was somewhat spur of the moment, too. I thought to myself quickly "how should I creatively beat this guy?", and the rainbow was my first though. The conditions were perfect; he was placed the ideal distance from me, he was never going to expect it, and he wasn't closing me down. to pull it out, and so I took a small touch, and executed it perfectly. I flicked it over my left shoulder, and ran to his right shoulder, so I got the bloody thing right over his head.

The best part was the cheering that came from my bench afterwards. I came off after I took the free kick fairly badly, and gloated a little.

We ended up losing 5-3, in spite of being dominated in the first quarter of the game. I thought the scoreline was nice considering that, but we definitely played much better in the second half. We had them on their heels too, at some points. A fun game though, for sure, aside from the fact that I had three other partners playing midfield with me. Afterward, I got kicked out of Hooters, hence the title.