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The soccer situation

May 4th, 2009

When I was a wee tot, when the world was raw and unformed and Jesus was the rootinest tootinest dinosaur cowboy EVAR (that’s an old joke), I played soccer. Yes, I was one of them. I’m not sure how I ended up on that field with that ball. For those of you actually looking at me (not right NOW!) this might be hard to imagine but I was a scrawny kid. These shoulders and forearms and this gut? They came along later. Some time after high school. The only possible athletic quality I possessed was running.

Therefore, soccer. Maybe, I really can’t remember.

I started young, like first grade I think. I played until fifth or sixth grade, when I would have had to try out for the team. There was no way I was going to put myself through that, although looking back I was a pretty good player. I wasn’t superstar material, I don’t know how far I would have made it but then I wasn’t bad at all. I was coachable, I knew the game and I worked hard. For the coach, anyway, I was less cooperative with the dad volunteers. Even then I had an attitude. You’re shocked, I know. Anyhoo, I usually played defense but I played every position except goalie at some point.

I’d had quite enough of soccer. Specifically of soccer players. From about year three when it started to become clear who was going to be really good and who wasn’t (I was the latter) all the way through after high school when I started having more control over who I hung out with, every soccer player I met was in need of an attitude adjustment of the shit smacking out of variety.

I have a number of other soccer beefs. I still think any sport that routinely ends with 0-0 ties is bullshit. I still see no reason we should care about what the rest of the world does or likes. I still suspect soccer fans are maybe a little ashamed of sharing America with Wal-Mart employees (as am I) and are perhaps indulging in a little idealizing of Europe (googling “racism in soccer” would put paid to that idea).

But really, I still hate soccer players. So when my coach asked me to try out, several times, I said no. Hell no on the inside.

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  1. denise
    May 4th, 2009 at 19:40 | #1

    I’m looking at you right now. Literally, right now. Turn around.

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