So, you won't believe what happened. Saturday we took the field versus the undefeated Bone Crushers, and basically cleaned the soccer pitch with them, dominating them in a miraculous, unheard-of 20-0 victory.
Yeah, hard to believe.
Instead it was a 7-1 defeat, and they, of course, had the 7. But the 1 wasn't too bad. Our first goal versus a team that had kept others scoreless.
And then there were the personal victories. Our goalie learned what to do once he captured the ball (kicking it to the side from the far line). We also showed uncommon (read: passive aggressive) care when their player was injured even though their coach yelled at their player to just shake it off. Our tiniest player showed his ability to be priceless as a defender, booting the ball far into enemy territory when necessary.
We also started to play as a team, keeping them to 2 goals at the half, 3 by the third period, and then we just sort of fell apart.
And by falling apart I mean in every possible way. Our middle defender decided to liberate himself and play most of the time on offense. Our attack game looked more like keep-away (with the defenders on the keeping end). And worst of all, our players started sniping at each other for falling down on the job. Oh, and we scored several goals on ourselves, which is, you know, symbolic.
But that's where I think I can help. I might not be super aggressive, macho, or knowledgeable in soccer, but I am, well, sensitive. And as a dad, I can give a heavy, guilt-inducing talk about being a teammate with the best of them.
And everyone loves adults who make them feel guilty. That's the peak moment of every family sitcom, isn't it?
Of course, credit goes to our team that when it came time to cheer for the other tea (2-4-6-8 who do we appreciate?), they refused to say Chiropractors instead of Bone Crushers (as I was goading them to do). So, score one more for our team.