Joined a pickup group using meetup.com and went out to a field nearby after work. We had 11 or so people and played a pickup game for about 2 hours. Pretty casual, half field. I hadn’t played in 6 years and that was only one game since college. I had already expected to die on the field. When I play basketball, I run all out all the time and then die on the court. I figured my same crap pacing would happen on a much larger scale except instead of a blacktop smack, there’d be a dull piff of grass. And then oblivion probably.
There was a variety of personalities and people, one of which was of the female variety. A ball was in the air and then she chest-trapped it to the ground. A prepubescent player actually stopped playing to giggle. I checked my pockets for red cards but alas, no justice could be exacted. If not for the respect of women, at least to clear out the center striker down-field position.
I had a few nice goals, it really wasn’t an issue or exciting to anyone playing. If you can imagine a basketball game of 21 on ether, this was the mood. People were playing and scoring but no one was keeping track. I seemed to be the only one happy to be outside running myself ragged on a beautiful day. At the end, it was dark and everyone was tired. I half-heartedly clapped for the good experience and everyone joined in. But then it was an awkward “wtf are we clapping for” and everyone just left. Again, I think I was by myself when I laughed at the situation. This sort of mismatch is typical with me. When I haven’t played in 6 years I’m an afterburner engine dumping gas and energy into the burning inferno of enthusiasm and everyone else is a slow burning candle. They are more suited to a consistent Catholic mass whereas I, the F-35b completely destroy myself trying to perform a VTOL into a pew.
I have blisters the size of quarters now. Some are red, some are white and some are gone leaving only skin that can feel changes in indoor wind movements. I am unable to walk straight because my skin stings when it bends. On the field, there were many moments when I thought I would not be able to play anymore and simply throw up while passing out. But this is why I signed up. I’ve been running and going to the gym and none can prepare you for the cardio that soccer demands. It is a torture test.