Thursday Night in the Dome

Just another ringer league game last night. The team we were playing (Swingin D's) was short a guy or two at the start so we came out kind of sluggish assuming it was going to be an easy game. Instead of shooting the ball as I normally do, I was making the difficult pass to teammates in front of the open goal. Unfortunately, there was never a teammate to receive the pass. We went down 2-0 in a matter of minutes. I started to get frustrated, so decided to turn my game on. I went back to my usual self, shooting and dribbling instead of passing. Even though the rest of their team showed up, I scored a couple goals and were tied. The game was a clean one. Their two best players were a couple of little Mexicans who like to dance around the ball. Reminded me of former-ringer Jose, who is currently plying his trade in beautiful El Paso. After encouraging my defenders to apply pressure on the ball, we were able to contain them rather easily.

The first half was very even, though we should have been winning by several goals. The highlight of the half was my second (or was it my third?) goal. The ball was sent forward and was bouncing around the top of the arc. Both the keeper and myself ran towards the ball. When he saw I was going to get there first, he started backpedaling towards the goal. As I approached the ball, I put the softest of touches on it. I popped the ball up in the air. The pudgy little keeper jumped as he neared the goaline and reached with everything he had. He swiped for the ball but got nothing. As he crashed down to the ground, the ball dipped in just under the crossbar and hit the net. A truly beautiful goal.

So with the scored tied at the half, we needed to come strong out of the gates to start the second. That didn't happen. Instead, we exchanged a few goals and with about ten minutes to go, we were tied at 6. That's when we kicked into gear. After their latest tying goal, I collected the ball from the ensuing kickoff and carried it towards the goal along the boards. As I neared the corner, I fired a shot to the far post. Goal. A minute later we stole the ball back from them deep in their end and, after a nice pass from a teammate, I tucked the ball into the net. Up by two goals now, the game was ours. We closed out the half with a couple more goals and won the game. When all was said and done, I think I netted five goals. Not a bad night.

Although it was a bit closer than usual, we were able to pull it out and our quest for an undefeated season and championship t-shirt continues. Rain is in the weekend forecast, so a Sunday outdoor game might be out of the question. Oh well - that's the life of an amateur I suppose.

Sunday Rematch

If I cared enough about my amateur soccer leagues, Sunday's game was one that I would have circled on the calendar weeks ago. It was a rematch against the guy who had headbutted me, and the team that had beaten us pretty badly. With the field and weather conditions significantly better, we were confident that we could beat them this time around.

The game was pretty even from the start. I decided to play out wide on the left again, a position that I feel is better for me on a team that struggles to play through the midfield. The first half was full of opportunities, but we weren't able to put them away. Eventually, the other team broke the tie when they sent a ball over the top to a forward who calmly slotted it past our second-choice keeper. 1-0. Here we go again. With about fifteen minutes left, this was about the time we broke down. Coincidentally, this was also the time I was subbed out. After a clumsy tackle in the box, the opposition was awarded a penalty kick. This was getting bad. 

Luckily, the same fucker that headbutted me last game put the ball wide of the goal. There was hope still. Halftime. After the half, we came out a little stronger but still couldn't buy a goal. After many consecutive misses by our strikers, we finally caught a break. I collected the ball along the sideline. Seeing one of our forwards cutting across the middle, I sent a low line drive right to his feet. His first touch was good, and his second was a drop back to the other forward, who one-timed it back in his direction and past the defender. A first time shot found the back of the net and were suddenly tied, with the momentum in our favor.

After the tying goal, we were attacking pretty heavily. I place two corner kicks perfectly on the edge of the six-yard box, but to no avail. With minutes to go, I decided to take matters into my own hands. After finding lots of space in front of me, I took off down the sideline. As a defender approached about twenty yards out, I knocked it around him and ran on. Now I'm free in the eighteen, running onto the goal at a tight (but scorable) angle. As I approach the six-yard box, I know it's time. I unleash a shot with everything I've got. When I look up, I see the ball as it smashes into...a windshield in the parking lot. I blew it.

That was not the most significant of our misses in the last few minutes, but a miss nonetheless. The game closed out and we ended up tying. A big improvement from the 5-0 loss we suffered last time, but it was still a bitter ending. It was nice to get back out there after a few rain cancellations. A bye in the Wednesday league means next game is Thursday at 6:45pm. Catch you in the dome!

Guest Feature: Zombie Street

This is a story written by Graham. Enjoy...

Quinn and I were walking down a wooded street, the day light fading slowly.  The houses were so cold and the trees seemed to reaching for us, telling us to get away.  We were oblivious to the outside forces, continued to stroll, trying to find our way home.  A car suddenly pulled up, screeching while it tried to stop, BOOM!  It hit a tree in front of us, leaving us confused.  A man stumbled out of the car, his eyes slowly filling with a blood red.  "You ok?” Quinn mumbled.  The man moved in a fast, unsteady pace towards us.  I looked around to see what the man was trying to get to, realizing that he wanted us.  I was conflicted, do I run and hope for the best, or do I look for a weapon in self-defense?  I chose the latter, but all I could find was a stick the size of my arm with the width of a #2 pencil.  I slashed at the man, who didn't seem to be fazed by my actions.  He grabbed for my arm but Quinn was able to push him away.  "Let's get the hell outta here, brah!” I shouted.  Quinn and I ran down the street, all alone, but feeling as though we were surrounded.  We decided that we should attempt to find cover somewhere.  Looking around we saw a house that was situated down a long black driveway.  We checked to make sure we had lost the man and ran down the hill.

"Should we knock, or just try to go in?” Quinn asked.  "I don't think we have a choice", as I went to open the door.  I fell into the open hallway when the door opened with no obstruction.  When I looked up from the floor, I noticed I was laying on a red and gold runner.  On my right was a staircase leading up to a dark hallway.  To my left was a fish tank with a couple of goldfish and a tropical tree beside it.  "Anyone here!?!” Quinn shouted in a hushed tone.  Not wanting to give ourselves away to the outside world, Quinn locked the front door and closed the curtains of the window to the right of the door.  I thought aloud, "This sucks... it's like a damn movie."   "What do you think was up with that guy?" Quinn pondered.  "I think he was a zombie... no bullshittin'!”, I stated.  "A Zombie? really?  You’ve been watching too many movies.” Quinn mocked me.  The truth of the matter was, I could tell in Quinn's frightened eyes that he believed me.  We didn't know if we should check the house for the living or stay in our spot for an easy get-away.

I decided two hours into our peep hole watching to explore the house.  Not knowing how long we would be stranded in that house, I thought it would be good to know the escape routes and/or people who might be with us.  I stepped softly down the stairs, not wanting to make myself known to anyone.  The moonlight draped the basement in a soft, blue hue.  There was a door to my left and two doors to the right.  A giant window with a 5 x 5 matrix was directly in front of me.  I decided to try the doors to the right first, hoping that they would be unoccupied.  The first door was a storage room, filled mainly with boxes and piles of books.  The second door was locked; I decided that I probably should leave that room alone for now.  I turned around and looked at the door across from me; I would need to go in it.  For some reason, I didn’t have a good feeling about this door.  I put my ear to the door and listened, all I could hear was the sound of my breathing.  I put my hand on the knob and turned it….

To Be Continued

Wednesday Night Recap

Usually when I write about my soccer games, I can easily write with the  intensity that I had during that game However, this time I'm having a little bit of a harder time finding that fire that I had throughout much of last night's game. Surprisingly, when the ref told me "just chill out" as I served my 5-minutes in the penalty box for dissent, I listened to him and finished the game on a much calmer level. Let's rewind to the beginning of the game.

Playing shorthanded on the big field at Inwood is always troublesome and last night was no different. Having no subs and our worst player in goal, we were going to be lucky to stay in the game. Not only that, but tonight we were playing our arch rivals from many consecutive seasons. They are pretty good but also pretty scrappy. Our games always get a little heated. After giving up a goal right away, we were able to get it back almost immediately. One of our defenders dumped a ball over the top to the corner. Their defender underplayed it and the ball bounced off the wall and over his head to me, and I calmly finished a left-footed volley. Maybe we were going to be alright. One of our players received a blue card (2 minutes) followed almost immediately by a yellow card (5 minutes) so for much of the first half we were down a man and it showed. Still, after scoring a goal with seconds remaining in the first half, we were only down by two goals at halftime.

The second half wasn't much better and the score started to get away from us. It didn't help that the referees were called yet another shitty game that benefited the team with six subs as opposed to ours with none. My snapping point came around the 14 minute mark. After the ball was kicked by one of their players into the leg of one of ours, it popped up to our keeper. Without hesitation, he picked it up, which resulted in the only passback call I've ever seen in indoor soccer. I, much like the rest of our team, was livid. Probably taking it out the wrong way, I launched into a profanity-laced tirade aimed at the ref and, after he told me several times not to cuss at him, I continued. Not surprisingly, I was given a yellow card and five minutes in the box. After looking like an idiot and slamming the door, still talking back to the ref, he told me to "just chill out." And I did. And it was pretty relieving. Up to that point, I was playing so pissed off and wasn't even sure why. Yes, these guys were our nemesis and they were playing dirty and talking shit, but it's still amateur indoor soccer. Even as a write this and realize how stupid it is to get so mad, you can bet anything that I will be back at next game. Oh well.

Anyways, after serving my five minutes, I came back into the game as we attempted to stop the bleeding, as they say. We were able to score a couple goals before the end of the game and I think we lost by something like 9-4. It was a tough game, but as I said last night, a big advantage to have in these indoor leagues is to be underestimated by teams when the playoffs roll around. In that respect, last night was a success...

The Story of the Brace

I want to use this downtime in between games to share a story about why I wear a knee brace. Back in 2008, I was in the middle of a ringer-league game inside the dome at Inwood Soccer Center. As usual, the competition was not great and we were winning pretty handily. Also as usual, I was attempting shots and tricks that my body was not capable of completing. About midway through the first half, the ball rebounded from the wall behind the goal to where I was at the white line (about 15 yards from goal). As the ball bounced above my head, I decided to attempt a head-height, right-footed side volley. As I swung my right leg forward to kick the ball, I used my left to plant my body. Unfortunately, my knee had a different idea. As my thigh shifted with the play, my shin stayed put, twisting my kneecap to the side of my leg. 

I wasn't sure what had happened and, at first, I didn't really feel any pain. It was until I looked down at my leg and realized the knee was not in its usual spot that I decided that I was in a considerable amount of pain. My reaction was an extensive use of profanity. Between the pain, discomfort, and my teammate asking me if I wanted him to try to rearrange my knee, I was in a minor state of shock.

I didn't know what to do, but the thought of moving my leg was pretty disturbing. Rescue 911 was called into action. After securing my leg in place, I was propped up onto a gurney and carted out of the dome and into the ambulance. The ride to the hospital is a little fuzzy in my memory as I believe the started with the painkillers. After arriving at the hospital, I went through the process of x-rays and everything.

Rain-Outs and Bye Weeks

It feels like it's been a while since I last posted (and it kind of has been), but I wanted to put up something to let everyone know I haven't already lost interest, which is a problem I sometimes have. Since Wednesday night, I have a had bye week in the Thursday league and a cancellation due to rain in my Sunday outdoor league. Needless to say, I am getting pretty restless and am looking forward to getting out there on Wednesday against some team called Curb Stompers.

Unless I come up with something to write about, I won't be back until Thursday with a Wednesday re-cap. See you then.

Wednesday Night Rematch

Last night's game was a rematch of last session's championship. After going down early in that game three weeks ago, we battled back to force overtime, eventually losing after ten rounds of penalties. They are a pretty good team and, with us having only one sub, last night's game was always going to be a difficult one. With our manager's wager still on the table, we needed to win or, at the very least, get a tie out of this game...

We started out very strong. Just seconds into the game, I collected the ball around midfield and took off towards the other goal. At full speed, I cut the ball to my left and fired a strong shot past the keeper. That gave us a little confidence and we quickly jumped to 3-1 lead. Then we started to get tired. The last ten minutes of the first half were difficult. We couldn't catch our breath and one particular player on their team couldn't miss the goal. All he needed was a little space (which we continually gave him) and he dropped goals both left- and right-footed on us. Of their ten goals scored in the game, he must have had seven or eight. After our slump towards the end of the half, we were losing 7-4 at the midway point. 

After halftime, we came out a little sluggish and the other team expanded on their lead. We finally were able to re-group and show a little fight throughout the final fifteen minutes of the game. Up until this point, the game had been fairly clean. As the game appeared to be out of reach both teams got a little scrappy. We were chipping away at their lead and their ankles. One guy retaliated with a shove and found himself in the penalty box for two minutes. I stayed clear of the fouls until I chased a loose ball along the boards. With two defenders on either side of me, I felt that I got shoved to the ground, yet this whistle blew in their favor. I got mad.

Note: I am not a racist. But at the same time, I have no problem identifying others as racist in certain situations. Ten times out of ten, that situation is a soccer game and the person in question is a referee of Mexican descent. The act of racism: making a call that is not in my favor. Last night was no different.

"Maybe if I was a bit more tan, you'd have given me the call."

What is wrong with me? Although I still believe I was fouled, I do not still believe the ref was racist. I'm not sure what is so appealing about being an adult league soccer referee. Game after game, they face constant criticism laced with vulgar profanity. I don't understand why they do it, and never will.

Down three goals (though we all swear they didn't count a power play goal of ours), there was just not enough time left in the game. We lost 10-7 and the bet was off the table. We won't be getting our season fees refunded to us, but consolation can still be achieved in the form of a session championship. Season continues next Wednesday.

Sunday Soccer Recap

This outdoor soccer season has been a tumultuous one that has seen its share of ups and downs. Being my first season with this team, I started off in typical GB Bomber fashion, netting two goals in the opening game. The following games were not as glorious as I struggled to finish opportunities and keep a cool head, having received two yellow cards in a span of 3 games. In one game, my troubled knee was giving me problems (easy excuse) and I was having trouble reacting quickly to the run of play. I received a yellow card for an off-the-ball shove of an opponent. Pure stupidity. The point where I realized I shouldn't have been playing was when I lost the ball on a lazy cutback and subsequently kicked the defender hard enough to cause some damage and late enough to warrant a straight red card. Fortunately, the ref pitied my apparent lack of skill and coordination. Rather than card me, he suggested I get off the field before one of their players inevitably retaliated against me. So I did. A good decision.

Fast forward to two games later, this time against a team of speedy Asians. With the Texas winds in full force and the patchy field being a constant obstacle, this game was never going to turn out well. For a while, it was pretty back and forth and I thought I had scored the go ahead after I slotted a through ball home. Unfortunately, the offside flag was raised and the goal called back. A few minutes later, I reached for a ball and as I made contact so did an opponent's cleat to my ankle. Those are the types of fouls that I hate and rather than shake the guy's apologetic hand, I offered him a different response. F*ck you. I would later come to regret those words.

Thursday Night in the Dome

These types of games are the reason I needed to start this blog. Not because it was a good game of soccer (It wasn't. We won 8-2). But because, I was typical GB Bomber - scoring over half our team's goals and receiving the biggest penalty of the game, which I will get to later. Before I get into this game, I need to let you know about the Thursday night league I play in.

We play in Division 10 at Inwood Soccer Center. The games take place on the smaller field in the adjacent dome. The competition week to week varies but, at it's best, is not good. Evan, Jose and I joined the team as "ringers" a couple years back. Basically, it was a confidence booster that, with the 3 of us playing, almost guaranteed a championship t-shirt at the end of the session. Evan and Jose are gone now, but I have re-joined the team as one of 2 ringers. I'm confident we will still win a championship but it's going to get a little chippy along the way. Last week, we won our first game pretty handily against a very bad team. We were a bit rusty but, fortunately, the opposition was as bad as they were. That brings us to last night's game...

Introducing Black Glove, Red Boots: A Softball Player

For the sake of getting this blog off the ground, I am asking the different GBC contributors to publish something right off the bat. By doing so, all of our loyal readers will know what to expect of the GBC in the coming years. Please get to know my brother Graham a.k.a. Black Glove, Red Boots...

Some call me a legend, most call me an average player. I am the older brother of the Golden Boot Bomber. I retired from "futbol" a couple years back to become a Professional Recreational Softball player. I currently play for Dip It & Grip It, a below-average co-ed softball team. In this current position, I play manager and shortstop while leading the team in at-bats. My men's team , Bada Bing, is currently 4-1. On that team I rarely play right field/ second base. I bat about ninth in the lineup with a fairly good amount of singles and pop-ups. Yesterday though, against a team sponsered by Atmos Energy, I had my second career inside the park homerun. While my ultimate goal is to hit a homerun over the right field wall, I'll take the ones of the inside the park variety. Of the two inside the park homeruns, both should of been singles but the outfielders miss played the balls. I normally wouldn't tell people this pivotal information, but I want my readers to trust me. Here at the Goldenbootchronicles we aim to be honest and professional at all times. I look forward to sharing my softball stories with you from week to week. Hopefully we'll be watching the weather together on Monday/Tuesday evenings.

Sincerely,

Black Glove, Red Boots

Wednesday Night Indoor...

Before getting into a game recap, I should make mention of the season-long wager put up by our team manager. He decided that if our team were to go undefeated through the regular season AND win a championship, he would personally refund all of our season fees, about $60. Why he would make a $600+ bet on a mid-level amateur soccer season is beyond me. I think he has a gambling problem. But that is beside the point. Our first game was last week. It was kind of a joke - an 11-3 demolishing of some guys rocking white sneakers.

Last night's game was the bigger test. Everyone was wearing appropriate footwear, which is a pretty clear indication that they had played soccer before - not always a given in these leagues. We went down early 4-1 on some weak goals. As usual we were playing with about 4 forwards to our 1 defender and that never works out well. We gained our composure and were able to cut the deficit to 4-3 by halftime. After finishing strong in the first half, we felt confident going into the second.

Physically, the game was fairly clean. We saw a blue card for a check into the boards and some typical shittalking (not by me), but for the most part it was respectable sportsmanship all around. Anyways, the second half was pretty even. We exchanged goals throughout the first fifteen minutes and with three to go, we were down 7-6. That's when your boy took over. I Collected a 3/4 length throw from our keeper, cut the ball between two defenders and coolly put the ball past the keeper. 7-7. Less than a minute later, the ball was switched across the narrow field to me standing on the corner of the arc (equatable to the corner of the 18 in outdoor soccer) about 12-15 yards from goal. I chested the ball to the floor. It bounced once. I realized the defender was going to just watch. As the ball fell back towards the ground, I dropped a left footed volley into the roof of the goal. 8-7. After a goal like that, I might normally be inclined to yell a demeaning remark at the defender but I wasn't in a trashtalking mood. With just over a minute to go and exhaustion kicking in, I subbed myself off. I figured we would be able to hold on to the ball and run out the clock. Wrong. The other team ran right through us and put in the tying goal with a minute to go.

I cursed on the bench. The ref ran by, "I love this game!" I thought that was weird. Anyways, nothing really developed over the next 60 seconds and the game ended in an 8-8 tie. Exhausting game.

I thought we blew our chances at the bet, but after looking up the email I realized we just have to go undefeated, not win every game. There is still hope. I want my money back.

Thursday night game kicks off at 10:30pm.

The Goodbye Dress Blog

Check out my post over at thegoodbyedress.blogpost.com

It's the story of how Mrs. McShay got fired.

Welcome to the Golden Boot Chronicles!

Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Golden Boot Bomber, a nickname a gave myself because I score goals. Lots of goals. Mostly in shitty adult leagues. Right now, I ply my trade in Division 5 of the North Texas Premier Soccer Association as well as Divisions 6 and 10 at Inwood Soccer Center (indoor league).

I started this blog to document my various feats (last night I scored 4 goals) as I play 3 times a week against players whose skills range from terrible to pretty good. In addition to scoring goals, I display poor sportsmanship - a trait that I hope to rid myself of. Maybe by writing about my soccer games, I will be able to channel some of my anger into a different area.

In addition to writing about my games, I hope to post some non-soccer pieces to change things up a bit. If you are interested in posting something on the GBC, please drop me an email at qbranson@gmail.com.

Enjoy!