Perfect Spring Saturday on the Pitch

On Saturday, I woke to the perfect spring morning. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and in my house the allergy sufferers were sneezing, sniffling and honking to beat the band. The pink blooms on our dogwood tree matched the shade of my pollen infested eyes and our dog Cocoa no longer had the wettest nose in the house.

I hate taking medicine, but I quickly surrendered and took a store-brand antihistamine. If you think gas is expensive, check out the prices for name brand allergy medicine! Still it was the perfect day for the pickup soccer game at Cy Donnelly Park. So I sucked down some coffee, wolfed down a pack of microwaved pancakes, threw on my gear and headed to the field. 

The good weather attracted a nice showing, with the game having as many as nine players per side at one  point. It was a good mix of high school kids, college students and old geezers trying to reclaim their wasted youth. We played hard for almost two hours, getting one of the most intense and fun workouts you can find.

We started this weekly game several years ago. At the time, most of us were coaches in the Kings Park Soccer Club, and most of us had no experience playing soccer. Sure, that didn’t stop us from yelling at the kids like we knew what we were talking about, but we were bluffing, taking our cues from football, hockey and other sports that we actually had experience playing. Playing together helped us appreciate the finer points of the game and high level of physical conditioning it requires.

Soon several of the older kids joined us each Saturday, filling out our ranks so that we could field a game on the full-size field. We learned together—the adults learned that one hour of soccer required seven days of recovery, and the kids learned that adults aren’t above cheating when their pride is on the line. The game has been a retreat of sorts, giving the kids the opportunity to play purely for fun and for the love of the game.  It has also helped the kids become better players.

Soccer has never been a popular spectator sport in America, but it’s universally loved nearly everywhere else in the world. From starving children kicking rolled up rags in Darfur to the millionaire players of Europe's Champions League, the world comes together over “football.” In our humble pickup game, I have been fortunate enough to play with people from Spain, France, Afghanistan, Ireland, England and Germany. We have had contractors, chefs, lawyers, scientists and computer programmers. Kids as young as four have played, as have adults old enough to have actually seen England win a World Cup. My guess is that you don’t see this type of diversity in flag football or softball.

I have also had the joy of playing with all three of my sons—Sean, Ryan and Connor—and I will treasure the memories of those games even after I become senile and they put me in a nursing home. I can only hope those perfect mornings on the pitch, followed by Slurpees at 7-11, have left the same imprint on them, and that they forget the times their dad fouled them in desperation as they dribbled around him.

The game has been going strong for over five years. We have played in rain and snow, heat waves and frosts. Players have come and gone and come back again. Some weeks, we have had as many as 15 players per side; other times, we have played with as few as three. There's lots of laughs and the occasional argument about an off-sides call, but we always finish by shaking hands and looking forward to the next week.

I finished Saturday's game with two goals and more muffed passes and shots than I care to admit. By 8:00pm I was snoring on the couch. Blame it on the allergy medicine.