Tuesday, October 12, 2004
FORZA
I love playing football. Why? The thrill of physical exertion? The excitement of feeling yourself do something you’d only hoped you were capable of? Hitting the back of the net? The grace, the poetry, of a well-placed pass, a good finish, a dummy, a mazy run, a feint? Tonight, and this doesn’t happen often (trust me, I tell you every time it does), I had a GREAT game. Or, I had a marvellous 45 minutes or so, and a good next half an hour. 7-a-side, teams pretty even, but we communicated much better and had luck fall in our direction. I scored three inside the first ten minutes, one good finish after a nice move (simple, first-touch stuff), one accident that snapped through the keeper’s legs, and one lucky challenge on a defender that snapped in powerfully. And then a full-pelt run on the break, down the centre of the pitch, bellowing “BACK AND LEFT BACK AND LEFT BACK AND LEFT!” at John, tearing down the right in turquoise t-shirt, as if I was John Garrison played by Costner in JFK describing Kennedy’s ruptured head jolting backwards and spilling brains over the motorcade. And John pulls it back, I take one touch with my right, barge past Martin, still at full-pelt, and the second touch is instant, left foot, and the ball sailed, low and hard, into the bottom corner. Billy applauded, I yelled “FUCK YES” and ran back to start again. It was a great moment, as stupid and tiny as that sounds – a goal in a casual Tuesday night five-a-side, but little moments of joy like that are what life’s made of. Get them where you can. I think I scored six all in all, and we won about 15-4.
A good evening.
NJS
10/12/2004 10:08:00 pm
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