Tag: football

We keep going

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Another win, and this one after we’d been really poor in the first half. And then we went and scored three goals. I don’t know what happened, but it looked like the same old, same old when we got to half time, and then someone put a firecracker under our collective arses in the second period.

Still, I’m not complaining. My only gripe is that the excitement and adrenaline prevented me from sleeping for quite a lot of the night. And that’s left me a bit broken today.

On the plus side, I’m off to emulate some of the heroics from last night by playing a bit of the old togger tonight, for the first time in ages.

As I type, it’s only 33C out there, so I’m sure it’ll be an extremely uncomfortable a fun and pleasant experience.

I’m staying home this evening

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OK, I have a daughter to pick up about 10, but other than that.

But staying home mainly because I am completely broken after football last night. Everything hurts, to mangle an REM song.
Sure, we got soundly beaten, but I ran around an awful lot, and if I’m absolutely honest, we really didn’t deserve the scoreline (which I’m not going to share). Neither did I deserve the nice stud mark above my right knee and the associated bruising, but that’s just one of those things.

I’m willing to admit that most of the pain is self-inflicted, though.

Same again next week, then?

Absolutely.

That’s it.

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That’s it. After that result at Wembley, obviously, I’m giving up on football.

Aside from the La Liga stuff I watched yesterday after the playoff game.
And the DfB Pokal final last night.

But that really is it.

Well, I did just watch the Girona v Atletico Madrid game.
And I will be watching several (or more) Premier League games this evening after some Villareal v Sevilla.

And then maybe the Bilbao game at 9 tonight.

And that will be that.

OK, maybe the UEFA finals on Wednesday and Saturday.
That’s just dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s.

And then perhaps the FIFA Club World Cup, just because you can’t go full cold turkey. That’s dangerous.

And maybe some more English football after that, because there will be a new season to watch.

But then that’s it. I’ve learned my lesson.

Possibly.

Footy

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With a friend’s sons playing (for two different schools…!?!) at the Wynberg Freedom Cup this long pseudo-weekend, I’ve taken a couple of trips down the road to watch and support them, and enjoy some schoolboy football.

It’s not the usual thing we’re used to up at this end of town, with Rugby, Rugby, Rugby and Cricket being the standard sports of choice, and Football coming in a distant fifth (or sometimes even sixth behind Rugby). But this invitational tournament features a lot of local schools, and several from up country as well, and it’s been well-organised, well-attended and well-supported.

And because of the heavy rain yesterday morning, turning at least some of each of the seven pitches into churned up mudbaths, it very much reminded me of my own school footy. OK, maybe not quite as cold or deep, but somehow every bit as messy. Also, I don’t remember there being a vineyard at one end of our field. Or Table Mountain beyond it. But it’s been a while, and maybe I’ve just forgotten these things.

Thankfully, today dawned much more brightly, and it was almost pleasant (if rather bracing at 9oC) for the [checks notes] 7:30am kick off. Two goals for our protagonist in this one, as his side romped to a 9-0 demolition of a sleepy, lacklustre opposition. Even Oscar put one in.

The semis and finals are all on tomorrow (Saturday) if you want to go through: entry is free.
Sadly, given the actual professional football happening tomorrow, I’ll likely be watching my favourite sport at home rather than out on the touchline. But this has been a nice distraction from building work and everything else at home.

If anything, the pain is getting worse

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A surprise double header for our 5-a-side team on Tuesday night. We literally found out about the second game just as we were heading onto the pitch for the first game. And while we love playing football, a double header is never great when you are a) old and… well… that’s about it, really.

We are the oldest team in the league by some distance. Some of the guys we play against weren’t even born when our team was founded, and I’d wager that I was older than each of the opposition’s dads in our second game.

But we played well. The first game was a really tight affair. It finished 7-8, and we were incredibly unlucky not to get something out of it.

Something other than getting completely knackered, that is.

I had a family thing I needed to get to. The Chilean had a restaurant to go and manage. At least several of our players would like to have gone and drunk some beer.

But no.

It was straight onto the other court and straight back into battle.

Dead on our feet, we somehow, bewilderingly managed to get to 3-0 up at half time. But then, playing into the blinding sun and the (actually rather pleasant) breeze, their comeback came back. Before too long, it was 3-3 and the momentum was only heading one way.

Courage, belief, attitude and an unwillingness to concede again kicked in. It was all automatic: there was absolutely nothing left in our respective tanks. But we threw ourselves in front of every shot, dragged every last ounce of energy to block a run; we left everything out there.

And we got a goal just before the end.

4-3, and our first win since September (it’s complicated, ok?). And it could not be sweeter. We struggled off the pitch to a cold beer. We staggered off to our respective destinations. And then yesterday morning, we reminisced on just how good it felt to win, and just how completely broken we all were when we woke up.

Imagine my dismay then, when I awoke this morning, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and then tried to get out of bed. Oh my deity.

If anything, the pain is getting worse.

I’m suddenly dreading tomorrow.