"I'm putting you in a sleeper hold" "I'm going to fight it..."

So Jay made me pass out today. It was interesting. I took his keys, so he tried to twist my arm. Apparently my arm is stronger than both his, so he knocked me out with a sleeper hold that I tried to fight off mentally. I hit the floor, blacked out, and woke up to him nudging certain parts of me with his foot. I felt really loopy and had no idea what happened, so I said I might have just gotten sick really fast. I had completely forgotten what he did to me for about a minute, and I felt as though I was just woken from a coma by having a potent bout of seasickness.

Strange. Kinda mean of him, too, I guess.

Team Gigantic played the champions of last seasons' (A or B) league today, and we got routed 6-2. I missed a couple that I just got unlucky for, but I may have witnessed the most hilarious goal I have ever laid eyes on, where their keeper decided to grab it out of the air in front of me when I was going to head a ball from a free kick. Unfortunately for him, I was on the edge of the box, and he knew that he was jumping outside it. He made a ballerina-esque throw over and behind him blindly, and it landed on Adrian's foot and in. Quite uncharacteristic of that team.

One of their girls and a long-time acquaintance, Cara, mentioned I was good, even though she nutmeg'd me at one point. In my defense, I felt it safe to stretch completely for a pass because Dan was a good bit behind me, but eventually it led to a goal for them by bouncing off Dan and back into the path of Cara. I suppose I did block a lot of shots though and played well defensively and positionally, and I did get a good bit unlucky as far as my shots go (one volley on an open net was just a little high for me to hit, and another volley went off the post).

On my way home, Mike from Winnipeg Rec League gave me a call and asked if I'd like to stand in for his team. I figured why not, it was on the way home. I go to the Highlander to play a half as "T Rex". I had a goal line clearance, then put one in on ourselves trying to tap it away from some guy. That's the second time that has ever happened, I won't do it again. Mike said he'd try and get me on the team. I did shitty, but I was tired, and I had a little on my mind. Maybe that will make it five teams this season? Even though I had an under-average night, I think they still liked me and they know I can do better.

Also, that test today went near-horribly. I probably got a B. Time to study for another. Also, time to improve my studying habits.

I can't want until Friday at noon. It oughta be the next time I get some proper rest. Maybe tomorrow while I work at WRL I'll be able to catch some Zs.

The Scholastic Gauntlet

I played with the Wannabees again today. Three of them showed up, and five is pretty much the bare minimum. They did have some people put onto their team from the league because there were originally only a couple of them, but they flaked out on them. That might be for many reasons. I won't get into that now, though.

So it was 4-5 (with keepers) for the first while. I ended up popping in a solo effort (finishing with a neat little sidestepping ball roll with the bottom of my shoe), but generally I spent my time defending and distributing. I mean, I can't come onto their team honorarily and just put it in myself every time, right? Son after another came onto the team, so we had a full squad and nothing more. This meant for a lot of playtime. We still lost 8-2 though. I felt completely alone out there, and I'm not even kidding. But that's alright, I suppose. I schooled the other guy who works for WRL in Winnipeg, Mike, very badly with one of my favourites, a sombrero. I also had a pass that I made with my ass, too. Interesting stuff.

Then a cute girl dressed as a bee and I traded candy while I shamelessly hid my burns. Yes, I consider myself a burn victim. Highlight of the night was when a guy decided to play in a full penguin suit He slipped everywhere, but it was incredibly funny. The cute girl also played as a bee. My other worker at WRL (same as the aforementioned) was sassing her for it, so afterwards I just told him to stop being an ass. I'll have to see if I can get him to apologize, that'd earn me serious 'I'm a good guy' recognition points. Sometimes Halloween is fantastic. Also, if anybody's curious, I'm having a huge girlnundrum (girl + conundrum = girlnundrum) right now. Pester away, if you so please. I'm in need of opinions.

After that game, I went over to the other gym to play with my own team. I forgot my indoor shoes (I really want to call them something other than shoes, but boots is too English and there's really nothing else), but it didn't matter. I assisted a goal to tie both teams at 1, then I assisted three more later in the game. The coup-de-grace came when I flicked a ball over a girl's head to a teammate, she headed it down, I ran, got it, passed to a man in the corner, then went in for the give-and-go*. I got the ball back promptly and one-timed it into the net. I also had a couple goalline clearances and a couple scuffed shots, but all was well in the end, we won 8-3.

Now for my focus to shift to school somewhat for two-and-a-little days. An exam tomorrow and then the day after (which I have done no reading for, nor have I gone to class), followed by a paper that I haven't even thought about due Friday. Time for some late nights. Fortunately, after this, midterms and papers are done, with finals beginning in a month, but they're really no problem.

And to the faithful - I'm not missing that game tomorrow unless I get third-degree burns.

*Note: I will sometimes refer to the 'Give-and-Go' as a Guy Van Gogh, after a good friend of mine. Send him my regards if you see him, he looks like this:

Some sort of idea?

Giving yesterday some thought, I think I have a bit of an idea of what happened.

Allow me to provide some background information. First off, I mentioned being in shock.

Second, in my Social Psychology class, we recently learned about an experiment conducted by Dutton & Aron in 1974. The experiment was about attributing arousal to what may cause it.

In the experiment, a good looking female confederate (experiment-helper) was told to ask questions and ask for a story from two groups of participants. At the end of the questionnaire, the experimenter would give her phone number out in case the subject was curious about results. This served a bit of a dual purpose - These men would now have this beautiful girls' number. It was also part of Dutton and Aron's measure.

One of the experimental groups of participants were questioned on a suspension bridge that was close to the ground, and very safe-looking.

The other bridge was the famed Capilano Suspension Bridge. This bridge is suspended a few hundred feet in the air, over a rushing river.

The Capilano Suspension Bridge. This doesn't quite do it justice though...


Looking down 70 meters from the Capilano (Four times scarier in person).

The main difference between these two groups is that the Capilano will have caused high anxiety, while the shorter bridge will have not.

What Dutton and Aron were interested is our attributions of this. Would those on the Capilano think that they had a racing heartbeat, clammy hands, and butterflies in their stomach because of the bridge, or the lady that had spoken to them?

They found that men on the Capilano called the number and described more romantic stories than those on the short bridge. The findings were significant.

Thinking about it now though, a potential confound in that experiment is that men who are more daring would go on the scarier bridge. I'm sure that this was not enough to compromise the study, though.

Now, in Sport Psychology, I had earlier learned about how athletes use arousal. In a nutshell, you can either let it get to you negatively (anxiety), or let it help your performance in the sort of "I'm ready for this" kind of way. I find I've always done the later.

Now what does the Capilano Suspension Bridge have to do with sport anxiety?

Well, think about it this way; What happens when you are in shock? For me, I become cold, lethargic, my hands get clammy, and my heart beat gets fast. Also, I get the feeling of a tinglyness on my skin.

I was certainly not in a great state of shock, as I shook the lethargy off pretty easily. Before the game, I gave it some thought, and decided to treat the shock as anxiety. In doing this, I demonstrated the mixing-up of attributions shown in the Capilano study, and also the use of arousal positively. Now, it might be a longshot, but I did have a pretty good game yesterday - Could this have been the reason? More importantly, am I on to something?

The most interesting thing about the mix-up though had to have been how the anxiety/shock subsided after the match completely. Normally it takes some time for shock to wear off, but anxiety departs normally when you're out of the situation that you attribute to being the cause of the anxiety.

Could I have turned the shock into a form of arousal, then gotten rid of it, just like arousal, at the end of the game? Could I have simply just worked my system back to equilibrium through the exercise? Maybe this requires some further research. I'm creating a new tag for certain posts for when I have to do my thesis in a couple years.

I can't hear your finger

Today was odd. I woke up with a bruised heel that wasn't actually bruised, so I popped an advil, which is strange, because I rarely do that. I stayed home to get some studying done, but instead I managed some more vitally required things accomplished, such as phoning the vehicle inspections agency about my window tinting.

I was heading to a game and work today when I decided that I could do well with some pomegranate green tea. I cooked some up, then left nice and early. Using this new fancy thermos my dad acquired, I was pretty excited for a hot beverage on a chilly day.

Boy, was I ever wrong. I spilled near-boiling tea all over my chin, and now have some second-degree burns to show for it. I turned my car right around, washed up at home and did my best to find home remedies, and found I should go to the hospital. Needless to say, I didn't, and I feel at least forty times tougher for it. In addition, I didn't waste hours of my time. Course, the thing has stopped providing a steady stream of excruciating pain (it's at a numb stage), but I keep putting off the shower that will probably have me cursing.

I headed to work, then to a game. Before the game, I was getting pretty cold and pretty lethargic. I decided to press on, and play the game with a good warm up beforehand. It worked like a charm. I wouldn't quite call soccer a panacea, but it does cure second degree burns, broken hearts, and the common cold. I played offense for the first half, and defense for the second. The White Eagles were wading in our usual complacency today; we had problems that nobody got to the heart of.

The White Eagles. I'm top-right, and looking like Satan.
Which team's unofficial replica jerseys do we wear? Answer at end of blog.

On offense, I provided a target quite often, and a few passes to hit men on breakaways. Nothing really ever came from it. Maybe I should take people on more often? I've been recently playing with the philosophy that I should pass whenever somebody opens up, but it doesn't seem to work as well as I'd like. I had two chances on goal, my worst came when I got on the end of a very well-placed cross with my head, but I was too far from the net to try to just deflect it in, so I wound up and tried to hit that thing with all the head-power in the world. I arced it wildly over. For some strange reason, one of my pals genuinely commented on the arc afterwards, which I was confused by, because I wanted as little arc as possible. My closest chance at a goal today came with a loose ball in front of the opposition net, so I slid at it to poke it in. Unfortunately, an opposing player just kinda sauntered in front of the open net, and my 'shot' hit their leg and failed to cross the line.

At halftime, I noticed a black ooze coming from my leg, which was interesting I actually bled black. I thought I was pretty cool for that.

On defense, I decided to get communication going. I began by drawing out an opposing forward, then passing it with my partner in defense (yes, we still employ the 2-0-3). I gave him a quick lesson about exploiting gaps and running to it while we were playing, and my team strung 7 or 8 passes together, and marched quite well down the field. This is what I wanted from the team, and the fact that we did it once speaks volumes. It was the best we had done all game, let alone the entire time I've played with them. For a short while, we looked like we knew what we were doing.

I blocked plenty of shots and stopped a couple of 3-on-1s and countless 3-on-2s (another reason why we need midfielders), and decided to do some trick passing later in the game. Nothing too fancy, but just a couple behind-the-leg passes. I figured that we were on the bad end of a 6-0 defeat, so a horrible screw up really wouldn't have broken the game for us. Sure, it was a little vain of me, but why not?

Next game, I'm going to try and get my team to just take it easy and slowly and cleverly pass it upfield. My team's lying in wait for next weeks' game like hungry wolves, apparently we're against an absolutely horrid team of old men. This worries me, because not only are we a horrid team full of old men, but we have an air of delicate hope around us.

Next week could very well be a make-it-or-break-it affair, but in all reality, nothing can be made from it.

Answer: River Plate of Argentina.

FINE, JUST LIKE THE PUTIN STORY, I'M NOT TELLING YOU

It hit me on the ride home:

I'm afraid of rejection.

It's the reason I don't ask out as many girls as I should, it's the reason I flaked on Maples Juventus earlier this year. Knowing this, I think I've got an excellent weapon on my side now.

Futsal. Note the smaller ball and the additional requirement of technical skill (not shown). Garishness optional.

Tonight's futsal match was pretty fun, we had 6 outfield players in a 4-out-a-side game. My team, Fury (finally, a team with a decent name, sorry Team G and White Eagles), is basically a group of people from all walks of the planet - an older Croatian (?) named Jahan is our captain/coach. I played forward, and played the first half to stretch the defense when I was attacking. I felt my style of running around like a madman worked well in the game, I caused a few mismatches and got open quite a lot, but a combination of teammates that weren't looking up, being greedy, and not being familiar with me ultimately led to nothing offensive from me in the first half. I used a plethora of defensive moves that I never thought I had, and the half was going well. We had it tied at 2 apiece.

At half time, we smoothed our strategy out a little - pass more, move more, and specifically to me, don't stretch the defense.

This got me into the game way more, and I had a few good creations in the second half. I almost had two assists, one where I made a blind pass to another forward standing in front of the net, and another where I had the ball in a goalie and defender vs. 2 attackers. The defender came to me, so I put a through-ball pass right between his legs. Now, if my other attack was actually a worse player, it'd have worked, but a combination of him cutting to stay open as I passed and a lack of chemistry (which will come) led to a missed chance. At the end of it all, we went home (or in my case, stayed at work) with the 4-3 win.

There are a couple arm-using players in that league, which is great because I need to learn how to use my arms. In particular, one guy pushed me quite a lot, but I was able to stand up to it, which was nice. A friend who was watching (and playing dodgeball later at the same gym, which I was going to referee for) mentioned that the guy really tried to have it out with me when we were vying for the ball, but thankfully nobody was hurt. Speaking of, that gym has a gruesome story about it. I'll explain shortly.

After the game, I got dodgeball up and running, then spoke with Jahan. I asked what I could work on, and he told me that all aspects of my game were good to very good. I felt he was sugar-coating it as I am definitely not technically up to par with these guys, but my opportunity creation was good, albeit not significantly better than everybody elses'.

His suggestion was for me to get my fitness up. I suppose he could've asked for me to work on my touch, but maybe, just maybe, that means my touch is good enough for now. It's strange though, I felt my fitness was the best part of my game - I spent it running into deep open spots then tracking back to get enough men on defense. Needless to say, there was a lot of sprinting involved. The unfortunate (?) thing about working on my fitness is that I will have no time for it, at least this week. In addition to two exams and a paper, the indoor season is now in full swing, and I have a game every night until Thursday.

Near the end of our conversation, Jahan then pulled out a bit of a surprise from his hypothetical bag of Croatian tricks. You'll have to wait until the end of the entry for this little curio, though.

At any rate, about that gym being a deathtrap - last Thursday, I was refing dodgeball in the same gym. I did not see it, but I definitely heard it. One of the fire-extinguisher holders that was jutting out and suspended from the wall took a swing at this poor guys skull. Blood ran like the Nile, and thankfully people didn't exaggerate the situation. The blood pouring down his neck was pretty (dare I say) cool looking, and he seemed to be all there mentally. The fire department and then paramedics came anyway, and all was dealt with in an orderly fashion, and he was carted off.

The grossest part about it all, however, was the wad of hair and head-juice that was left on the extinguisher case afterward. I thought about leaving it as an overnight present, but then morality got the best of me.

The best part that would've been about leaving the wad of hair? The gym belongs to an elementary Christian school.

Maybe I should have ended it there, but there are two more small parts to this particularly long post, and now I need a segue.

In dodgeball, I laid the groundwork to ask out this cute girl who acted as scorekeeper for me. Next week, I am putting into motion a well-laid but not well-played plan. We'll just have to see, I suppose. And yes Derek, I did talk to her.

And finally, the bomb that Jahan dropped on me was that he offered to get me onto one of a few of the top indoor premier teams in Winnipeg. He mentioned Lucania, Sons of Italy, and Blue Blazers. I was flabbergasted, and I get to talk to him next week about it. Course I would like to go back to Maples Juventus and show them what I can do, but any opportunity is just that.

This time, I am promising myself not to bugger it up.

Also, I could very well be the busiest person in the world if this all goes as planned. Two jobs, five teams, four classes, and maybe, just maybe, a girlfriend.

You know, I'll be okay today, no beers before a game...

Brenden and I had a post-GRE get-together today that was originally meant to be Squash. Our booking was messed up, so we went to the pub. I had totally forgotten not a minute after I told Brenden I wouldn't drink before my soccer game about my claim, and ended up getting a beer. Brenden was flabbergasted, so he chided me.

My game went alright. I got a lot of play time with the Beans, and scored one from a corner where I timed my run and tapped in. We lost 3-1, however. I had a lot of defending to do, and I had a lot of tap-aways and blocks throughout the night.

I reffed the game after that, then played for a team that was short a few players. This team really was no good, I got two goals through solo efforts. I did all the hustling, and I feel in way better shape for doing so.

There were a couple cute girls playing tonight, maybe I should ask them out or something. The biggest problem, though, is balancing a few things:

Pros to a Relationship:

-You're not so lonely.
-Somebody is most likely thinking of you every day.
-You get to hug and kiss among other things without feeling bad.
-Girls are nice and fun to hold.
-You feel as though somebody likes and is attracted to you (that's what people say)

Cons to a Relationship:

-I tend to go for the psychos.
-You can get cheated on.
-You have less freedom and free time (depending on the girl)
-You have to tread lightly (maybe that's just my experience?)

Maybe I'll play it casually for a while. Probably. If the chance comes, why leave it, though?

Tomorrow is a MASSIVE squash day. Three matches. Basically, from 1:15 to 5:00. Can I handle that? I've been playing through injury enough as is. I wonder when my next game is? I think Thursday I have a rest, as with Friday. Let's heal this new muscle strain up.

Which reminds me, I oughta check which Futsal team I'm on.

"Are you okay?" "You could move"

Today was spent helping Brenden with his GRE. Good luck pal.

To keep this all brief, I had a game tonight that the White Eagles lost 4-3. I still have no idea why we pay 2 defenders and 3 attackers, because an attacker, I spent half my time tracking back to prevent us from getting destroyed on defense. The three attackers also tend to just crowd around the opposition's net, which makes scoring fairly difficult without any support outside that, except from the odd defender that runs up. I had a few possessions of the ball and a couple shots. The biggest problem was that when I looked to pass, nobody was open or moving. If I did manage to pass, it was given away within a few touches. I had a few runs up the field, but nothing worth note.

And oh, today's title is a piece of dialogue after an opposing defender cheked me into the boards. He checked me, which happens, then pinned me with his leg. He then offered a hand, while still pinning me. Part of me wants to believe that he didn't notice that he was preventing me from moving.

If I had my way, I'd employ my favourite; 1-1-2-1. We'd need one sweeper coming up no further than half but being sure to always be the last man back, then a central defensive mid that would distribute. The two attacking mids would provide some width but mainly work for a triangle with the striker, who would be in front of the net or on the far post if the ball is coming in from the side. I like this formation because of a few things:

1 - The insurance at the back and a threat at the front at all times.
2 - You have two triangles that you can attack with.
3 - The dangerous aspect of the central defensive midfielder, where a ball can be passed out so he can just smash the thing into the net with the striker as a screen. I realize I've already shown this once, but it still applies:



Sure we'd still have two main defenders, but if I were to have my way in practice as well, I would get everybody running as well. If it's any indication, two of our goals were scored by Dean (who last summer was a little round around the edges). He's smartened up and began working out, and looks and plays way better for it. He's not even naturally gifted in soccer, he was just in shape and smart about his play and got a couple good, tenacious rebounds.

I'm in a good deal of pain when I play, I strained a muscle behind my right knee. I should cool it for a while, but I can't - the season just started.

I like it, you are a good teamwork

Today I was supposed to go to a practice, but I was out too late and had to work. I realize that this is a poor excuse, but I really had a full plate today, and early morning (10:00 AM) practices really don't gel with me. I worked at the bookstore for convocation, selling flowers, watches and other stuff. I was working with my squash partner and good friend Brenden, and he was busy studying for the GRE. Brenden is quite a smart fellow.

He has scored incredibly high on the qualitative portion of the GRE, but is at best lacking in confidence and prowess for the quantitative section, with is math. Today and tomorrow, I am tasked with helping him with mental math. We're going to conquer that multiplication table old school style, all day.

"It's okay to be completely wrong, Winston."

After work, which he and I mostly spent working on math, we went to the Elephant & Castle and worked on math. Tomorrow will be much of the same, with a squash round with Tom thrown in, as well as (hopefully) an indoor soccer game, given some work shuffling. after the squash and soccer, I go ref again, but this time with Brenden and multiplication tables in tow.

I reffed dodgeball tonight, and I managed to play a whole hour. You want tough? Try an hour straight of that with no breaks, drunk. I feel like somebody beat me up, but the good kind of beat up. A good example of this is when a girl really likes you so she shows that to you by beating you.

Oddly enough, I got the dodgeball gym a little early, and there were some guys playing futsal. I saw a guy I knew, and he was signing up a team. Unfortunately, the team was full, so I signed up as a single and will be thrown onto some random team. The guy wanted me to show my stuff, so I threw on my shoes and played five minutes. I didn't make a fool out of myself while drunk, and in fact I was pretty surprised about my showing. These guys were four of these five things: pretty cool, pretty good, pretty talkative, and pretty foreign, and robots. And such is the situation where the title of today's post is courtesy. I get the strange feeling that this will propel my game to interesting places.

Also, in other news/a slightly inebriated stupor, I earlier discovered that others' problems help your problems more than any sort of problem remedy.

Now to make mental math tables!

Now with more* pictures to come.

*Note: Not necessarily more.

Is terminal velocity equal in all valences of gravity?

The last couple days have been somewhat malignant in nature. It must've all start when my ex-girlfriend texted me. She mentioned being thankful and hoping I'm doing alright (etcetera, etcetera), but the text that I hadn't replied to was just beginning to get on my nerves. She wasn't the finest of girlfriends and really rarely gave any sort of thought about my feelings (etcetera, etcetera), but some masochistic part of me stuck around in spite of, well, a lot.

Why I'm writing about this I don't know, but she certainly doesn't deserve the time of day. Long story short, unwavering honesty, gratitude, and faithfulness for closer to two years got me nothing but getting kicked to the curb for my archrival who she constanly had a thing for and did nothing about. It is highly likely that I was cheated on at some point or another, too.

Moral of the story? Independence is good, don't get into a trap of being gratified by being held and assuming you're cared for.

At any rate, we'll detach ourselves from my emotions for a while.

Last night I got an hour of practice in, mostly with my left foot. It is better, but I've found my touch has excelled even more.

Today I recieved the dampened excitement that my effort in school is paying off; I got the highest mark in a forty-person class for the first test.

My student ID number is 1151920. In case you're lazy, I got 46/50. That's 92% for those of you who are too astonished to do very, very meagre math.

I'm sorry, that was uncalled for, but at the same time, too sweet not to backspace.

Also, Squash today went well. I beat Tom only once, but the poor guy didn't even get a serve in that round. 9-0. He won seven other somewhat close matches, but still, I feel pretty good about mashing him to a pulp.

And it all still doesn't make me feel any better.

Speaking of feeling sick to my stomach, take a look at one of my (literal and figurative) biggest pal/fan/critic's blogs, Derek's Good Groovitude. As mentioned, the coherency, stylistics, and sheer amount of periods will make even the most cursory of folks queasy. Good (if not great) Groovitude - horrible everything else. And yes, he knows I'm just looking to wind him up.

At least now he does.

Why don't you make like a tree... And get the hell out of here

Get it? It's like "leave and leaf".

(It's okay, I didn't either.)

Tonight I play two half games. I was supposed to be reffing, but ended up joining in with a team that didn't have enough people (I scored once in a 3-2 loss), and then went to another gym, reffed another game, then played, in spite of my team not showing up at all. Way to drop the ball Canadian election style, Cool Beans. The joke behind that one is that most are politcal staff for the New Democrat Party.

Since I started Squash, I've noticed a couple things. For one, I'm noticeably quicker with my feet while defending. This came in handy tonight, and was the first time I've noticed it.

Later on, I had a few people from the team that we were supposed to play against split up and we just played 5 a-side no-goalie ball. I scored three times, and had the best connection ever with one of the other players. He was good but not spectacular, and we just had it going on. We knew exactly where we ought to be, and played into that, and put in bagfuls of goals. I daresay that with a few practices, we could mesh together better than me and Jay do. Unfortunately, he's on some other team.

After that last half game (everybody vouched to leave because they were tired), I began to pack up. I stopped and thought for a moment, and realized the gym was still reserved for another 20 minutes.

So I began practicing with my left foot. That was the other thing I've noticed improvement in - I can pass harder with it, and I can almost shoot hard with it. Accuracy has also improved. My coordination in using it still isn't the best, but that will come, especially if I can actually use it. What I mean by that is that it still feels strange to kick with it with any power.

However, it may have not been squash that has improved it. What else happened around that time? I healed from my injury.

One time, I had posted that Jay had mentioned that when he came back from a bad injury, he came back with improved ball control. I suppose that's how he's at the point that he is with his footwork. When he mentioned this a couple months back, I was both hopeful and jealous. Maybe it has manifested itself differently in me?

I certainly hope so.

Also - I'm joining a futsal league, hopefully. I'm excited for this.

Straight from the USL's Favourite Badboy/Sweetheart

I've neglected this thing so much, it's a wonder it hasn't croaked completely. I mean, sure, the last person to look at it was probably myself, but that's cool too.

This weekend was Thanksgiving weekend. I had far too much turkey and stuff, far too much alcohol, and far too little working out.

Friday, I managed to get Brenden, Tom, and Sebastian together for Squash, and we played for two hours. I spent most of the time facing off with Brenden, and I ended up pretty much tying him. He had one match on me, but I blew him out of the water every time I beat him and was close behind him every time he reversed it.

I suppose really working your ass off can play dividends, I now feel like a better squash player. I also beat the one round I had against Tom. Looks like I'm climbing the USL squash ladder*.

Tom 0-1
Brendan 4-3

I have my squash outfit figured out, too. Black and white shoes, orange shorts, white socks, white tank top (I'm a renegade of sorts), Orange or white headband, all with my beautiful white and orange racquet. It's almost ready to go, aside from the shoes, shorts, and headband.

Okay, it's half-ready.

* Note: Ultimate Squash League was a brainchild of mine for myself and a few friends. There are about 8 members. There is no definite scoring, the way we rank is sort of based on who seems the best. It's all estimation, really.

So tonight I went for a run to burn off the extra turkey and stuffing, only to dress up, psych myself up, then twinge my ankle a little going backwards on a treadmill trying to pick up a clip. I'm putting heat on the bastard in order to make it good for tomorrow's second indoor soccer game. Please remind me to hang onto the ball a little more, even though the one time I did last game, I got yelled at. The strange thing? I was looking for an open body the entire time. Jesus. That season in particular could be a long one.

Also, I've found out my Halloween costume. It's a little strange, moderately sexy, and remarkably blasphemous - I'm going to be Adam from the bible. I just need to figure out a couple things - What, other than a leaf, can I use, and how am I going to cover my bottom?

... Do I want to cover my bottom?

Through the Ringer... And Back

I am so sore.

Squash really beats the living tar out of you. It's a true man's sport.

Monday I played Tom again... And I just realized I forgot my notebook at the bookstore I work at.

At any rate, it was much like Friday, except I started badly, and ended very well. I think I'm nervous when people are watching me, as a couple of others were at the start. Later on, I kicked Tom's ass 9-2, beat him 9-8, and was close a few times.

Today I played Murray, and he's pretty natural at it (for his first time). I suppose I shouldn't expect much from just having started - Murray beat me by a few sets. In my defense, he was a raquetball player before his house burned down.

After that, I reffed a couple indoor soccer games, then played my own. I had a few really good passes, but I think I need to hog the ball a little more with this team. It pains me to say it, but I think I should've had a few more shots than I took (zero). Before I began reffing, there was a junior indoor practice. Their coach was a Winnipeg Dynamo Kiev player, and these kids were about 12. This guy was the biggest asshole I've ever seen coaching, and while the kids were good, this guy was just incredible in the way he was treating them.

Oh yeah - Sunday, I had a dodgeball game for an hour that I had the opportunity to play in. My job's pretty sweet at the rec league.

Tomorrow it's Sebastian for squash. Then I actually get to go home at 2:30. I can't believe it nowadays when I have free time, it's like the world stops for a short while.

Also, my birthday's coming up in a month. What should I do for it? I really don't want to do a thing.

And a bit of good news - I'm no longer injured. Pretty much.

Team T-Shirts and Captain Wifebeater

Thursday evening I played a scrub match with a handful of guys from my university, I scored three on a good header and a couple tap-ins. I also cleared one off the goal-line, and played well defensively. My favourite part of the game was a strange volley-clearance that I really hammered (across the field). Unfortunately, I didn't have my cleats, so I slipped like crazy.

Friday, I played squash with Tom once more, besting my goal of not getting shut out in every set. I also won two sets as opposed to the one Monday, so I suppose I'm improving?

October 3rd, 2008 - Squash vs. Tom, 2 hours, 2-12.

I play Tom again Monday, I hope to score at least two every set and to beat him in two sets. Tuesday I'm against Murray, and Wednesday is Sebastian.

Tomorrow I have a couple soccer practices (Cool Beans and White Eagles) that I'm debating showing up to. As much as I'd like to, unfortunately, I have two exams Monday. After that, though, I have one a week from Tuesday, and then I'm in the clear. For a couple weeks. Then I've got an essay due, and a bunch of other crap.

Also, my idea for my squash suit is no longer, the shoes I was looking at were yellow and red as opposed to orange.

But, that still doesn't mean I can't try - I'm aiming for orange shorts, orange shoes (White if needed), a white headband, a white tank top, and my white & orange racquet. Hopefully it works out. Pictures to come.

And I'm still injured.