Back on the pitch, and rippin’ shit up.
Tonight, on a whim, after spending a very depressing 4 hours in various Verizon stores, I hoofed it back out 195 to some park to meet some TFA chick who I didn’t know and 4 guys I’d never heard of before. Played for 50 minutes, 5v5 and I scored 2 (3?) goals. Grin. Big grin.
God, it felt so good to have a ball on my foot again, to make those crossing runs, to see the field explode in zipping diagonals, and be at just that right spot at just that right time to feel in slow motion as the ball meets you, makes contact, and ricochets into the net.
It’s a powerful feeling to have those “sweet” moments on the field, especially when your teammates, regardless of how well they know you, acknowledge them to your face. I’ve been on some teams where it felt good to lose because we knew we’d played our heart out, and I’ve been on some teams whose wins were empty because I didn’t truly play a part in the game. I’ve been on very few teams where it felt really fucking great to win. Tonight, in its rec-league-half-assed-thrown-together way, it felt really good to win. The crazy thing is that we played a hard game; it felt like one of those days at Mario’s Beach FC practices when we’d play 5 v 5 or 4 v 6 until I wanted to eat my own cleats; we played some really pretty soccer at times, for slightly out of shape adults.
Tonight, I needed a win.
In so many aspects of my life right now, I feel powerless. Fighting corporate America to a stalemate in the form of Verizon; ending up the big loser (so far) in the whole Student Cell Phone debacle; struggling in my own self-suffering way to make it clear that of all FIU students, TFA students are the most overworked, underappreciated, and clearly most meritous of slacking off: all of these things exhaust my poor pathetic little brain. Being a loser, even metaphorically speaking, is not fun. Also, many of these fights just came up on me unannounced; I didn’t seek them out, and so I suppose I feel a little threatened and attacked by them.
I can’t always control my kids, I can’t control electronic equipment. I sure as hell can’t control my academic life at the moment although this week I swear I’m going to get a handle on TESOL so I can pass my midterm. What I can control is making that far post run, taking that hard tackle, drawing the foul.
Or, for that matter, deciding to take a rest on defense, and leave that perfect run for someone else. Someone stronger, someone refreshed. Either way, we both get to be part of the win.