In loving memory...

In my recap of the summer, I forgot to mention one important match I had with the Hurricanes. It was my first match playing sweeper (and the team's second last), and early on I went in to make a slide tackle on some guy carrying the ball up the side. The result(s)? I knocked the ball out of bounds, and the following occured:

From the guy's cleat when he jumped on me.

Note the black area. I placed a binder inside the jersey to showcase the rip that the cleats caused.

A better picture of a blood stain in the second picture.

Needless to say, it hurt. However, the fact the I got up and continued playing after a large groan still fills me with pride, and so I am keeping the (unwashed, unmended) jersey around in a plastic bag until I see fit, which will likely be forever. I suppose I'm lucky my liver wasn't perforated or something silly like that, nor that my skin was torn open. Between that and the fact that my cleats had been falling apart, I looked like I was playing just after getting in a brutal street fight.

One of the "old hombres" that had served me well through four outdoor seasons. They were a pair of Adidas Traxions, and "trax'd" they did.

Those boots deserve a monologue for all they've done for me, so here it is. Normally I'm not the sentimental type, but those cleats saw me at my very worst, and lasted better than I could've ever imagined when I bought them for some paltry fee. I remember the first real contribution I had in outdoor soccer with them; I had been playing left midfield in highschool footie, and I delivered a long through ball to a striker, which he went on to score from. We won the game by a landslide, but regardless, I had contributed. Up until their last days where they were even duct taped together, they had been getting the job done, regardless of whether the eventual wear had caused a nail that held the sole in place to cut my foot open or not, or whether the side (shown in the picture) was splitting or not. The very least that could be said about those two faithful allies was that they were my first pair of real boots, and were a testament to all boots out there. Through what must've been at least a hundred games played with them, they have set a benchmark for other cleats, but at the same time, they have filled me with hope for when I purchase a new pair, for I know that there must be cleats as expertly crafted as those.

Thank you, old hombres. You will be missed.