We had a strange game of indoor soccer last night. No goals at all in the first half (the average would be about 10). In the second half we got out to 3-0 and felt like we might be safe, then they rattled on 3 of their own in no time at all. A draw.
Last time we were in the top division we lost every week. This time we have had 3 draws and one precious win. Despite the good results, I have never felt so old out on the court. (I have never been so old, let's face it), but I really feel I am not running out the games so well these days.
As a testament to my advancing years, the other day at work I found I had to move my lawn bowls to reach my hot water bottle. My work colleague Ben gave me a beautiful set of lawn bowls (my second) I had plonked them by desk. My feet have been persistently frozen of late so I bought a hot water bottle to rest them on - it works like a charm. It was when I was shifting the bowls to reach the hottie that I realised I am now "that old guy" to my workmates.
Today Marcus had his first soccer match for 3 weeks, against the Ken Morton Soccer Academy. Our boys were expecting a very tough test, and it was too. They did a great job though, worked hard for each other and were level 2-2 at half time. In the second half, Felix in goals was peppered with shots and kept them all out. Marcus was defending marvellously, holding up the very quick and skillful academy kids, and generating moves forward for his team. At one point he was caught with the ball deep in defence, and I thought their resistance was about to crumble. He just worked so hard, got it back, fed it to David up front, and David went on an incredible run that ended with him and the KMSA keeper charging at a 50/50 ball. The keeper kicked it into David and it rebounded off some part of his head/face area, into the net. Amazing. A few minutes later it was all over and our lads were delirious. It was probably their best game of the year and certainly the most outstanding result.
I missed about 10 minutes of the game giving Michael a dressing down. I had seen him whipping a long willow branch around, whacking poles and fences. Next thing I knew he was flailing at another boy with it, and hit him across the face. The boy was not happy and went to tell his Dad. I seized the willow off Michael and sent him over to say sorry. He seems to me to be incapable of sincerely saying sorry, but the Dad seemed satisfied. Michael and I then spent another little while yelling at each other.