Angry Soccer

A few weeks ago I played a soccer game, like normal. Except it didn't go like normal, and I wanted to write about it.

I'm a pretty laid-back soccer player. I don't get riled up, even when we're losing (even losing badly). Plus I'm very cordial on the field. I like talking to the opponents, and I congratulate them on good plays. Seriously, a good shot is a good shot, no matter who took it.

I lost my competitive edge some time in Jr. High. I had a soccer coach who beat the life out of my soccer game. I stepped down from my competitive team and joined a rec league and learned how to lead and how to encourage and how to just play because I was having fun. No one was yelling at me or telling me I played like $h1t (and yes, my coach DID tell us that. More than once). I LOVED it. And I decided, at 13 years old, that if more competitive soccer led to more stress and more stressed-out coaches, then I wanted nothing of it. I wrote off, in that moment, any prospect of playing soccer at high levels. No college ball. No thank you.

So now I play co-ed soccer on Friday nights in a 35+ (those are the ages. Sometimes it's 25+, but sometimes they don't have enough teams, so they combine with the older league) local indoor league. And I'm a star. Not to brag, ... Okay, I'll brag. I'm really good. My team doesn't win every game, but I "keep my own stats", as I like to say. Most games I participate in 50% of my team's goals. It's a little easier to do because I'm a girl, and they need a "girl touch" on the offensive side of the field before anyone can score.

At first I kept involvement stats if I was involved in the play. If I started the play, made a crucial pass, assisted or scored. But I've improved since then, so I only count "involvement" if I assisted or scored (which is a shame for last week's game, when I started 3 plays that lead to goals, but assisted none and scored none (cause I played defense the whole time)).

Well, the game a few weeks ago was progressing like normal. Low-key. We dominated the first half, but played sloppily and only scored 2 goals. I assisted one of them. And I was shooting well, which was good for me, cause I hurt my knee back in June and have been worried about if I'd be able to play at all. So I knew that not only could I play without pain, I could shoot! (And, to brag again, I shoot harder than a lot of people on the field, guys included.)

Then the second half started. I was sitting out for the starting rotation (6 minutes on and 6 minutes off, if we have a full team, which we did). By the time I got on the field, the other team was up by 1. THAT MEANS IN 6 MINUTES THE OTHER TEAM SCORED 3 UNANSWERED GOALS. And I was ticked. Not only had we let up on our play and that was disappointing, we let the SAME GUY score all 3 times, in the exact same way. He dribbled from his own half, through about 6 people, and shot the exact same low shot to the far corner.

It'd be one thing if the guy was a dribbling genius, but he wasn't! He wasn't near as good as he thought he was, and he wasn't a generous player (in fact, his play could be described as sexist, and yes, I WOULD describe it that way). The fact that my team wasn't taking the ball away from him at half field was unacceptable.

2 minutes into my first turn back on the field the other team (though not the same guy) scored again. It was 4-2. I walked to the line for the kick off and said, "They've filled their quota." I was now focused and feeling ruthless. They will NOT score again. Not on my field.

We had plenty of opportunities to get back into the game. During that first rotation in I scored. The ball was bouncing around the box, people shooting and rebounding like crazy. The ball came to my foot, and as if in slow motion the ball left my foot and headed for the far upper corner. It was so well placed that it hit both sides of the corner on the way in. I didn't even wait for the congratulations. I turned and walked to mid-field, eyes on the ground. There was still another goal to be scored.

And I scored it. It was a beautifully placed shot to the near post. Buried in the back of the net. Both shots must have been hard, but they felt slow and deliberate. Like everything I did was intentional, and I could perform like this for the next 100 years.

We were now tied 4-4. I looked at the clock, and with 2:30 left, we could still win the game. But suddenly, my fire was gone. Just Gone. I ran slower. My passes weren't on. I found that I was back to the normal Tamra who doesn't care if we win or lose, so long as we're having fun.

The game ended in a tie, and I felt fine about that. The world was okay again. I had gotten my evens.

I even apologized to the guy who had scored 3 goals, cause during my moments of Fire, I had kicked him. Not on purpose (I could never do that, no matter HOW mad I got), and it wasn't even my fault really, but still I didn't apologize for it. Usually I'm uber-apologetic. It half-killed me to walk away, but I was so mad that I didn't care. After the Fire was gone and the game was over, I was sorry for kicking him.

It was kinda fun to feel that Fire again, though I don't like employing it, cause there's so much anger associated with it. I haven't felt it since a certain game in High School that I can recall in detail to this day, even though it happened 14 years ago. It was a deeply frustrating game, and I scored 2 goals in under 5 minutes to win the game by 1.

... And if you were keeping track of my involvement stats for the game of my Fire: 2 goals and 1 assist, out of 4 total goals. That's 75%. Impressive, no?