Sunday, June 20, 2010

Once More Into the Breach Dear Friends, Once More

Unless you’re unequivocally ignorant you know that in Brazil soccer is kind of a big deal. They eat and breathe futbol on a daily basis. A young man named Eduardo told me that during the World Cup soccer becomes even more important to the Brazilian existence. Well, I was honored by some of the residents of Campo Grande with an invite to participate in their soccer league. I showed up dressed in an old football workout shirt raring to go. Sadly my soccer cleats were too long and the owner of the fields would not let me wear them. So I slipped on some old tennis shoes and attempted to understand what the other players were telling me. Some of you may know I played soccer for around eleven years, but that was when I was a child. Trust me, what minor skills I had have been lost for eternity. Regardless, I promised myself I wouldn’t turn down any opportunity. There were three teams of seven. Winners got to rest between rounds. Losers had to stay on for one more half. My team sat out the first round. I watched the Brazilians and attempted to measure myself against them. The odds were against me. The referee blew the whistle and I jogged out onto the field, taking my place where they told me to, out of the way on the right wing. Each round lasted twenty minutes. It was an absolute battle. We played at full speed the entire round, twenty minutes of absolute fury. By the grace of the Almighty God I held my own. I set up some opportunities for goals, had a couple of assists, and even made a few steals. I will say it’s pretty tough to get the ball from your teammates when you can’t even call for the ball, but we managed. The referee blew the whistle and my entire team collapsed except myself. Apparently I was in better shape then the rest of my team. Don’t get me wrong I was exhausted, but not to the point of gasping for air on the ground. Sadly, my team lost so we had to play another round. It was the same story; except I took a decent shot this round and the crowd went wild. It felt like I was that kid coming in dead last in a race. I mean back of the pack by a good half-mile kind of feeling. It was a pity cheer, but I take what I can get. We lost again because my team was obviously the won that enjoyed their churrasco (Brazilian barbeque) more. We played for two and a half hours. More than a full game of soccer for those of you who don’t know. I was extremely tired and ready to go home and sleep for days. The Eduardo, my ride, told me it was time for the, “Segundo jogo com os irmaos da igresia.” My Portuguese is at the level of a two year old at best but roughly translated, “Second game with the brothers of the church.” “Once more into the breach dear friends, once more”, I thought to myself. No, I’m not joking. We hopped in the car and drove to a different field made of turf. Although less competitive because of the lack of skill it still maintained the level of intensity. I played a total of four hours of soccer that day. Around two games with maybe forty minutes of rest spread throughout the day. It was a new level of exhaustion. Still my futbol buddies complimented me on the way I played. I said, “Don’t patronize me.” They looked confused. They also said I looked much less tired than they did. I knew it was my typical male ego trying to save face, but I thanked them all the same. My vision was blurred and my head was fuzzy, but I understood that they wanted me to play with them every Saturday. My answer, of course, was absolutely.

2 comments:

  1. I think I would have found a way to lose the ball so no one could play! HA, but I am serious.

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  2. Hahahaha yes, they'll wear you out and think nothing of it. You're a braver soul than I....I played the first two times I went, and have politely declined ever since. Loved the "Don't patronize me" comment. That's good.
    Now, this Eduardo...Eduardo who? Is it the one (or two) that I know?

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