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.
The opposing forwards began to expose our slow defenders and by halftime had taken a one goal lead. The second half did not start well and we quickly found ourselves in a three goal hole. That's when things started to get ugly. They began to hold onto the ball too long, going for nutmegs and pointless jukes. In a game that matters as little as these do, people's egos are the only things that come into play. No one likes to be embarrassed, so when you having someone winning by three goals and still trying to dribble circles around the other team, hard fouls begin to happen. After a few yellow cards, tempers began to rise. One hard foul resulted in a free kick in our favor just outside their eighteen yard box. On the ensuing kick, the ball floated through the goal area. As it sailed over our heads, I attempted an ambitious overhead kick, missing the ball completely. When I got up, there was the same guy from the first half giving me a staredown. I wasn't having that so I walked over and asked if he had a problem. Apparently he did, because that's when he headbutted me in the face. I couldn't believe it. Who does that? I was infuriated. The guy got a straight red card, which is probably a good thing, because I can't imagine what kind of dirty foul I would have retaliated with. It wasn't going to be pretty. Anyways, the game ended and we weren't to play again for two weeks. Good thing too, because my ankle was black and blue and needed some recovery team.
That brings us to yesterday. We were playing the last place team and it looked to be a pretty easy game. Right off the kickoff, I ran forward through the midfield and received a pass from our central player. Turning the ball towards the goal, I slotted it through to my fellow forward who turned and shot the ball past the keeper. 1-0. Fifteen seconds in. This was going to be a joke. Or so we thought.
The other team wasn't very skilled but they had some athletic players and speed up front. Fortunately for them, I have not seen a more unathletic group of defenders than what we have in front our goal. They were able to capitalize on that and we went down 2-1 after about thirty minutes. Following the trend of my last three outdoor games, my finishing was horrendous and my likeliness to be on the wrong side of the offside trap was embarrassing. I had several chances in the first half, all of which were missed. I was obviously frustrated so decided to change positions in the second half, moving to the left flank. Turned out to be a good decision as we were lacking any play out of the midfield. Being on the side, I was able to collect the ball out of the back and provide better service to our forwards and central midfielders. After creating several chances that were not finished, we finally broke the ice. Tied game. We built momentum of that first goal and were able to drive 3 more home, finishing the game with a 5-3 victory. Finally our team, which has looked so inconsistent over the season, was able to overcome a deficit and beat a team we needed to beat. As for my temper, I narrowly avoided a yellow card when I told the referee one of his calls was "bullsh*t." What is wrong with me, I wonder. The game came to a close when the ball went out of bounds for a throw-in and I followed the ball to give a little kick to the guy picking it up. He got mad and starting yelling at the ref. He had a valid point, but he pretty much lost his cool. After criticizing the ref with excessive profanity, he was ejected and asked to leave the premises. He took his time and their coach (who has a coach in adult soccer?) decided to pull his players off the field, ending the game.
Good win for the team and hopefully a positive note to carry into the next game. Next game this Wendesday (indoor) against the team that beat us in last season's championship after 10 rounds of PK's. See you at Inwood Soccer Center!
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