Those “Oh, @#*$!” moments. We were going to have a few along the way as the Fish Tacos got going. My colleague and fellow teammate, Garrett, had stopped by the Oregon Soccer Center to check it out. His first comment to me after seeing the size of the field became one of his more famous utterances, “Man, what are we doing…?” Indeed.

We visited the facility together one afternoon before our team’s inaugural season to drop off our registration paperwork. Yep, the field was large. Indoor soccer fields come in different sizes, but they all look like hockey rinks and have Plexiglas walls. The playing surface is made of synthetic grass with rubber pellet padding, affectionately known as “turf turds” — tiny bits of black rubber that get in everything, especially one’s shoes. The goals are built into the end walls and the entire top of the Plexiglas cage is covered with netting that keeps the ball from flying out into the spectator areas. The netting is out of bounds, but the walls are not.

Garrett and I had unique work schedules at the time that allowed us to go the facility in mid-afternoon to practice. No one else on the team could do that, so it was just us…and occasionally a guy flying his kite at one end of the field. The facility was that big. How the happy kite flyer kept from piloting his toy into the netting, the Plexiglas, or us, I don’t know. That bit of farce just added to the experience.

While I was a beginner, Garrett was a former club player. That being said, he hadn’t set foot on a soccer pitch since his high school days, which had been 10 years prior to the Fish Tacos. His position had been sweeper — the player in back who is a last line of defense, other than the goalkeeper. He would reprise that role with our team.

Garrett looked good while practicing and had no problem stopping me from running around unhindered. He was also able to keep me from getting off any effective shots on goal. I was glad he would be in front of me when I played the goalkeeper position. While I was thinking about playing in the field a bit, it was apparent that speed was going to be my best asset, as my 1v1 skills left something to be desired. The goalkeeper position would be the easiest to grasp at this point and meant I wouldn’t be running up and down a field that seemed awfully large!

Other than pretending to be ready for our debut, the only other task that remained was equipment shopping. I had already purchased shoes but still needed shin guards, socks and goalkeeper gloves. Basic equipment. This should have been easy, but I spent more time trying to make decisions on these items than some people make on buying a car.

Why are there 20 different varieties of colorful shin guards, which are worn under the socks and seen by no one? Why are there so many different kinds of socks, which only come in a few colors and are all basically the same? Why are there so many types of goalkeeper gloves, which range from cheap and worthless to expensive and overkill? I’m sure the employees at Dick’s thought that I was casing their store and planning a heist of the entire soccer section. After many hours spread across several days, I finally had what I needed.

A photo of the soccer bag and its myriad contents:

Now, it was time to play. I was glad not to be the only one rather new to this. I was also happy that I knew almost everyone on the team — less embarrassment that way if things went badly. Fear or no fear, this was happening. My brother-in-law, Eric, told me that I would learn quite a bit about myself playing this game. Talk about being prescient.

More to come in Part III…

Playing soccer. One day in the fall of 2011 I decided to do it. No more assuming it was too late in life to start. No more assuming I could never be good enough to get on the field. No more assuming I could never be in shape to stay on the field. No more excuses for not pursuing a game I had really come to appreciate and love over the years. So, off I went…only to be unable to find a team.

My soccer epiphany came after kicking the ball around one day with my brother-in-law, Eric, who had been playing for years. Physically, I was able to keep up with him. My skills on the ball weren’t great, but the idea of playing goalkeeper intrigued me. For one thing, I could use my hands! In recreational league, players must stay on their feet — no slide tackles — but goalkeepers can go to the ground to snuff out attacks on the goal. As long as the player doesn’t mind putting their face close to an onrushing attacker’s shoe, it’s no big deal. So, a little craziness helps, too. Check!

Another reason for playing goalkeeper was that it’s not a position everyone clamors to play. I figured it would make finding a team easier, especially since I was just starting out and my skills weren’t beyond the beginner level. Goalkeeping appeared to offer a little more margin for error.

Unfortunately, finding a team proved to be elusive. There weren’t a lot of leagues close to my home, and the weather was turning. The best option was to join an indoor league. There are facilities all over the Portland metro area that cater to year-round indoor soccer. I had a couple of leads on joining a team, but those went nowhere.

In the meantime, I purchased my first pair of soccer boots and spent time at the local middle school dribbling the ball up and down and across the football field. I worked on corner kicks and got to where I could launch the ball over the field goal posts. I could also get the attention of those in the near vicinity when loudly clanging the ball off the metal crossbar. Clarke Hylton, soccer star in the making. Still, I was a player without a team!

Our group came together through a casual conversation at work when I mentioned my fruitless pursuit thus far. Mallory, one of my co-workers, came to the rescue. She practically threw a team together within a couple days, made up of several of our colleagues and a couple of her own friends. There were a few moments when it looked like things might not come together, but she got us into a Saturday night lower division coed league at an indoor facility close to work.

I handled the administrative tasks, and just like that we were off and running…with a bunch of people who hadn’t played in years, if at all. We didn’t have a lot of time to think about that though because our league started its busy winter season almost immediately. So, we focused on the next most important part — our team name, of course.

The paperwork required by the Oregon Soccer Center, the facility where we’d be spending our Saturday nights for the next couple of months, had to be turned in as soon as possible. That led to the quickly conceived and utterly forgettable Goal Trolls nickname on our original registration form.

A moment of inspiration came courtesy of Miguel, one of our colleagues who had no intention of playing with us but was interested in our fledgling team. We worked at a group of radio stations, one of which was a Christian music station and the other, a Latino station. One morning Miguel announced that we should be the Fish Tacos — a play on the radio station names and formats. Brilliant. We had blue and also white station tee shirts, depending on whether we played as the home or away team on a given night, which solved our uniform problem as well.

Everything was coming together. I just needed to purchase a little more equipment and check out the facility where we’d be playing so I could drop off our fee deposit. For that, I took my buddy and fellow teammate, Garrett. That’s when we had a few “Oh, @#*$!” moments.

A few pictures from the kick around that started this whole thing:

More to come in Part II…