The Net Ripples, Grass Blades Bend

You will read this article in one part, but it is being written in two.

389 days. 1 year, 3 weeks 3 days. That is how long since I've played a "competitive" soccer game. The last time I passed to a team mate. The last time the scoreboard lit up. As we all know, this last year has been crazy.

I've played soccer only recreationally. As a little kid when we moved like a flock of birds; all chasing the ball around as a mass of kids in oversized jerseys were more interested in the treat after the game than the result. After college, I joined some strangers to play, again. I still remember getting to the game a little late, getting my jersey on the bench, and going onto the field while still trying to put my jersey on.

For 13 years, I played several times a week all year round. Indoors and out, I loved the game. The lovely game settled in and continued to grow in my world. I watch Manchester United every second I can. I've played FIFA and Football Manager. I've got the Old Trafford LEGO set. I take the little one with a mini ball and kick around. We read soccer children's books at bedtime.

When the pandemic hit, I didn't realize how much of my life revolved around soccer. A couple kick arounds were fine, but that was getting a dinner mint when you are used to eating at a buffet: Not enough.

As vaccinations have been delivered, it has given hope to the world. Soccer has been played in stadiums and fans have finally returned. It creates a sense of comfort and normalcy that we have been missing. I didn't expect to have butterflies. But here we are.

Now, I am not in as bad of shape as I was during winter of quarantine. But, I am nowhere near the same shape I was during the last indoor session. I had to dig my bag out of the closet, find matching soccer socks, and pump air into my ball. For tonight, after 389 days -1 year, 3 weeks 3 days - I am stepping out onto the pitch, again. Suited and booted.

And it is 88 degrees.

---

Imagine waking up on Christmas morning. You are so excited to be getting the newest, biggest, most expensive toy from Santa. As you race downstairs, you look over the presents. The handful under the tree are exciting, but don't seem to be what you are looking for. It must be hidden.

As you open the presents one by one, you are excited, but a little doubt creeps in. Finally, after all are done opening what was under the tree, you start to give up hope. But, around the corner comes one last present. Your elation skyrockets.

Once you tear through the packaging, you stop and look at a really cool new toy. It is pricey and was on your list, but it wasn't the exact thing you had hoped for. Your joy turns a little sour.

I overhyped the day. 10 minutes before the start of the game, I sat on one side of the field, no other red shirted team mates in sight. Did I get the wrong field, was the game moved? The other team had a whole roster. A couple mins later we had half a team. Still not looking great.

Game time.

We forfeited. Not enough players to field a team. Luckily, everyone still wanted to scrimmage. I still got to run around and kick a ball. It was just missing some icing on the top. That last present was great: being able to put on a kit, wear shin guards, and defend the penalty box was something I had longed for. Something that I had missed.

But, since it ended up just being a big kick around, it lost a little of that shine. Don't get me wrong. Second best present is still better than no presents. I am thankful to be able to do this, again.

I also discovered I am far more out of shape than I had guessed. My old man hip still hurts like crazy. And, I love soccer. Even after 389 days - 1 year, 3 weeks 3 days.