Our first game was a bit of a disaster. We were picked apart by a team that seemed really good for lower division soccer and lost to them, 13-4. Most of us on the Fish Tacos worked together at the time, and we had a lot to talk about Monday morning. What turned out to be a more pressing issue than the lopsided score was the injuries sustained by a couple of players.
Arnulfo, our second goalkeeper, had cracked or broken a rib making a save in the second half of the game. He had also bruised his tailbone on another play. Being in his 50s, he decided that to continue playing wouldn’t be in his best interests health wise, so he resigned. He did offer to stay on as a coach, and he recruited his son, Eric, to take his place on the roster.
The other injury was to Garrett, who had wrecked his ankle. Late in the game while making a play, his foot got caught in the turf, and he rolled his ankle badly. It had swollen up quite a bit over the weekend and looked terrible on Monday. He didn’t quit, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to play the following Saturday. His plan was to change from turf shoes to flat sole shoes, thinking that would cut down on the chance of reinjuring himself. He wouldn’t have grip on the turf, but that would keep his foot from getting caught if he tried to pivot on the surface.
Those were the health issues. The other big problem we faced was executing smart tactics. Soccer is a fluid sport, but getting on-field tactics correct can make things a little easier. We had fallen apart fairly quickly on Saturday — a problem that would plague us for months.
When we settled on tactics for a particular game, we could never execute them once we fell behind or got tired, both of which always happened. The goals would start piling up against us and before we knew it, we embodied the old quote, “When you are up to your butt in alligators, it doesn’t do any good to remember that your original objective was to drain the swamp.” Amen. We were trying to survive without being run off the field and into the parking lot.
The issue of getting tired would be resolved once we got into better shape. There was plenty of joking about that and promises from several players to start working out and running during the week. So much for this being a slow-paced league. We were alarmed to think what upper division was like!
Our second game was a week later against Gramma Flappy Arms. I had hoped they would be a group of older players. Alas, it was teens and 20-somethings with a middle-aged player or two. They weren’t very good, but they could — and did — run all night.
We did manage to earn a 4-4 draw out of the match. Perfect result for what would turn out to be the two worst teams in the league. While I was disappointed that Garrett had been able to play all of 30 seconds before his previous injury sidelined him, I was happy that we came out of the game with a tie. I figured — incorrectly — that a win would come the following week. Winning would prove to be rather elusive.
More to come in Part V…