Everything worked out last weekend, after the weather-related delays… boarded a bus in the afternoon, got to the ferry, hung out with the team, ran through a series of Osaka and Kobe train, monorail and bus stations… and got to Awaji in time for the first game. That’s right… soccer tournament again! This was my third tournament and I was excited.
(Smaller ferry crew than normal... rockstars nonetheless)
I prepared to be goalkeeper because our usual keeper couldn’t make it. I had mixed feelings and decided it would just unfold how it would… (Like it always does!) We got to the field and met the other half of our team, who had driven five hours to get there. Then it came out that one of those guys was also a goalkeeper… no worries here, I threw him my gloves and shirt and grabbed a jersey to take my place in the midfield… my legs, which had incidentally planned to take the weekend off, were utterly confused because they quickly found out that they were going to be working quite a bit.
We didn’t concede a goal the first DAY…. In fact, we didn’t concede a goal during the ENTIRE tournament. 2-0, 2-0, 1-0, and 6-0 wins the first day gave us a No. 1 seed. In the first game I headed the ball on a corner kick and got nailed in the process… as I hit the ground, the ball found a teammates’ head and he headed it in for the score. Damn it is rough in the box. Game two was a rough and tumble game in the box also. Another corner and I snuck in behind the defense. We all went up and I jumped too high. The keeper misjudged the ball too, and he decked one of our players in the head with his elbow. At the same instant I smashed the ball into the back of the net. It was a good header, but, as I jumped too high, the ball cracked off of my eye/cheekbone/nose into the goal. Nevertheless, a goal is a goal.
(Fukuoka-Aichi United!)
Game three was a brutal stalemate until a gorgeous pass found the perfect runner and an amazing shot beat the keeper… that was a tough game in the humid heat of the mid-afternoon. The last game was fun, for a second. We played with a ball that was too hard… I found this out six minutes into the game as I headed the ball in midfield only to be taken to the ground moments later. It felt like I landed on my head after hitting a kicker on the slopes. I haven’t felt such a compaction of my head/neck/upper back like that. I came off early and sat out the game. My team won that game 6-0.
I was dying to get out there. The hardest part about the injury was not the pain…. I figured that just sucks. But watching my guys having so much fun and not being able to play alongside them was killer. It happened the second day too. I reckon that the migraine that came on the second day was a result from my head injury the day before… again; I sat and watched while the other team drew a tie with my team. They were so dirty and I just wanted to be on the field… I wanted to go in hard for headers and tackles and be a bruiser for my teammates who are courteous and hard-working players who don’t play dirty. I wanted to watch them score. And even more so, I wanted to be out there and help them win, by getting messy in the middle and hitting people who have no business pushing my teammates around. But, I gazed at the game despite the nausea and inability to open my eyes for the first half. As hard as it is to say, the best thing I could do for my team was not get on the field… I wasn’t in condition to play and I would have played dirty and angry instead of focusing on helping the team win. Wow, this really sucks to write.
(The "band" foto, taken in Sannomiya by anonymous gorgeous woman #1)
I watched the team draw. I thought that maybe I could get in (I was feeling better in the second half) for a small piece of overtime, so that I could take a penalty kick, if it came to that. To no avail, the semifinal game allowed no time for overtime and we went straight to a three-player shootout. SECOND TIME. This is the second time in a row that I have been ineligible to shoot that PK. I don’t know why I selfishly want to take that shot. Something about it lures me to the field. I have practiced it with my kids over the past year; I have had dreams about it. That shot, the technique, freezing the goalkeeper, putting the ball smoothly, crisply, delicately yet forcefully into the back of that net has me salivating every time I lace up my cleats. And I stood alongside my teammates at midfield and watched the drama unfold.
(Getting the rundown, as our chef oils up the grill for our Garlic chips!)
The rain started at the beginning of the second half. Everyone was drenched again this fall during the semis. There was tremendous lightning all around and we should have called the game half an hour before. But we all stood on the field and waited for the outcome to present itself. We were shooting second. Our keeper saved the first one. Then we scored. 0-1. Then they made and we missed, 1-1. Then their third shooter made it, 2-1. As our player approached the penalty spot, a crack of lightning struck overhead sending EVERYONE to the ground… except our team! There were easily 60 idiots out there watching and playing the various games and everyone hit the deck to avoid the strike. But our genki group of players just stood there watching as our own player calmly walked to place the ball on the spot. That is the silliest and yet most amazing thing I remember… none of us gave a shit. Ha. He shot the ball gorgeously into the upper right V and tied it at 2-2. Then it was down to one and one. It went two rounds, 4-4. Then the fifth round came. They scored and we missed. 5-4. We lost the semi…and yet we still hadn’t conceded a goal all tournament!
(Hiroshi is in shock, Darryl is mystified)
After the game, we dried out and I was a mix of emotions… from having lost, from being injured, from watching the same thing happen again. I was angry at myself and at the other team… and I tried to pull my friends into my anger… for a little bit we vented about our irritations… one thought he should have taken a shot instead of backing down, another for having missed a shot, another though he didn’t run enough. We all had a gripe or two and things about the other team who we felt had no business winning. And we could have run ourselves in circles. But, we got it out. And then it was over. I felt the need later to bring it up and get the anger going… but something clicked in my head that it was better to keep my mouth shut. We had already gotten it out; there was no need to beat a dead horse. Furthermore, it was time to look forward, to get back to Kobe, to catch our train home and so on.
(I nibbled on a few veggies before snapping the shot: left to right... garlic chips, jaga-imo, onions, asparagus, carrot... bottom row is that yummy Kobe goodness on delicately sliced white bread)
Upon arriving in Kobe, I pseudo-jokingly mentioned that we should stop by the Four Seasons Hotel and get the famous Kobe beef steak. After all, we never hang out in Kobe; we just run through the train and bus station on our way to the fields. Somehow the idea resurfaced and we decided to call Sam’s friend in Kobe for some help. We had never left the pitch so early (we have recently played the entire day… into the finals) but we lost earlier than we were used to, so we had a bit of time on our hands. We met up with Nick and had a small nosh at an izakaya… and eventually we found a restaurant. Yannick, Matt, Nick, Sam, Hiroshi, Darryl and I were given our own private room and we had a “Kobe beef experience.” We strolled into a rather nice restaurant in tank tops, baseballs caps and sandals. As we were taken to our room, we couldn’t help but notice and later laugh about the folks (everyone) that had ties and jackets on! A “little undressed,” might be the understatement of the year. But no worries. The meat was outrageously amazing and we got a chuckle thinking about how much money we were actually spending. At the end, I think we were all very much taken aback to spend a fortune on meat… but we were all doing it together, so something about that was rather comforting.
(How much did you say the bill was?!)
It was a great thing that we lost. Without the extra time, we wouldn’t have had time to get that steak. We wouldn’t have had time to hang out near Sannomiya station and watch all of the passersby. That really cute girl would have never taken our picture, posing like we were a rock band, rebels without a cause. We wouldn’t have been able to hug the man in the same plaza who was giving free hugs. We wouldn’t have been mystified by the torso statue. We wouldn’t have been able to laugh and really be grateful for the outcome that had all started on the field.
I later realized how much money I spent over the weekend. And I began getting down on myself for being so thoughtless. But, I stopped and grinned because no one got hurt (except me, and hopefully that will just need some rest), we didn’t concede a goal and ironically still lost, had fun and played the game for the sake of the game. We had the finest beef that has ever been tasted (so it goes.) We spoke our jumbled Japanglish and survived a lightning storm. And boy, did we ever laugh. That kind of camaraderie has no price tag. In fact, I already want June to come so that we can go to the spring tournament. I don’t care about that PK situation anymore, I don’t care about winning. I just want to go run around with the guys and laugh. And then lose early so we have enough time to get another Kobe steak!
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