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...
The team we played was one consisting of all English guys. You see times like this from time to time and more often than not they believe their nationality automatically makes them better at soccer than a bunch of Americans. Don't get me wrong - I have played with some very, very good Brits. But I have also played against some shitty ones. Very shitty ones. That's what we had tonight. They didn't even look like soccer players. They were your typical big-bodied, hard-nosed British dudes straight out the pub.

Even though it was never a game (we jumped to a 4-0 lead almost immediately), they never let up on the cheap shots and shittalking. For once, I was the calm, collected one on the team, encouraging our guys to play clean. I argued that by playing dirty while we're up 4 goals, we are just asking for some hard fouls in return. Not surprisingly, that's exactly what happened.

The entire second half was a collection of hard 50/50 challenges, body checks into boards, and late slide tackles (there is nothing I hate more than slide tackling in indoor soccer). I tolerated the dirty play and tried my best to steer clear of it. That was until those big British a-hole decided I was going to get involved. It started when I argued a shitty call by the ref. The dude told me to "f*ck off." I shrugged it off, whatever. After a couple (mostly lucky) nutmegs against opposing defenders, I guess he'd had enough. That's when he fouled me against the boards on the left side of the field. It was cheap and I was mad. Rather than pop up and get in his face or throw a retaliatory leg swipe, I decided to increase our margin of victory with authority. So I set the ball down and as he backed away I kicked it as hard as possible. He flinched like a pussy and the keeper never stood a chance. Again, normally I wouldn't be such a prick when winning by 5 goals but this guy had it coming. So I stared him down.

Note - this particular individual would've wiped the floor with me if an actual fight ever broke out; something about playing soccer brings out a side of me that believes I can stand up to anyone.

Anyways, he didn't appreciate the exaggerated stare down so he called me a cunt. I didn't like that so I responded non-cleverly, "You're the f*cking cunt." Instead of getting into it further, I decided to sub myself off. However my remark was apparently enough to warrant a 5-minute penalty/yellow card. I argued the yellow card for a minute trying to point out that he started it because that's how grown men fight, right? I eventually relented and stood there as an entire opposing bench of British guys confirmed that I was, indeed, the one who was a cunt. Meanwhile, the dude on the far side of the field was motioning at me in a suggestive manner. So much for not getting involved.

I will say, I give credit to British guys for leaving it on the field. Despite half-worrying that I was going to get my ass kicked in the parking lot by a bunch of Green Street Hooligans-looking guys, they shook our hands after the game and laughed about the physicality of the game. All in all, just another day in the life of an amateur soccer player.

Next game Sunday at 5:00pm. Taking it to the outdoors.