|
It was two days ago that I played soccer for the first time in over 6 years. I consider myself to be in good physical condition, spending a least three times a week at my local gym and bicycling through the Burlington Ontario's Niagara escarpment on weekends. But I confess that I have stopped all running since I discovered that my right foot suffers from arthritis which causes a numbing pain after less than an hour of abuse.
It was with these thoughts that I acceptd my friend Vinko's invitation to play a game of indoor soccer with a group of his friends who play every Friday for two hours, from September to June. We have talked off and on about me playing, just once to prove my prowess and to show Vinko how a regime of regular fitness can outperform one of no fitness combined with an addiction to cigarettes. You see, Vinko is a chain smoker and despite some failed attempts to stop, he feels that smoking is his personal right and that it enhances his life rather than diminishes it.
I used to cajole, tease, and nag Vinko about his smoking, allways challenging him to some competition to prove my point. Well, after two years, Vinko finally responded with his invitation to play soccer. I remember how I used to laugh at him when he talked about his soccer skill, even though he wasn't bragging, just talking. I would tell him that I could see him running down the field, coughing, out of breath, hoping to have a substitute replace him at the earliest moment possible.
The night of the game, I was told that there may be only ten players; usually there were double that many, but this evening there would be just the minimum number to make up two teams with NO substitutes. I was introduced to each player as they arrived, one by one, at different times, some during the course of the game. We were selected into two teams and Vinko was on the opposing team. Ah, this was going to be good..I would be able to play my best and beat Vinko at the same time.
The game began and I started with enthusiasm and energy to run down the ball, determined to make a good impression.
Fifteen minutes into the game, I am slowing down, more carefull with my exertions and hopefull that more players will arrive and we will have substitutes. One, two new players trickle in and thirty minutes into the game we have five players apiece and no substitutes.
Within 45 minutes I am heaving and gasping for air. Vinko has been a leading player, constantly on the ball and seems totally composed. It appears that I am the one with the cigarette habit. Goals are being scored and my team is leading with a considerable advantage, no thanks to me or my faltering efforts. After another goal, I begin to walk off the field and one of my teammates cautions me that there are no substitutes or timeouts, we will play the full two hours without any break. I reply that I am just getting a drink of water and will be back in a minute. As I return, the opposing team scores a goal and I feel guilty that I am more driven by my thirst than my soccer interests.
After one hour it is nine o'clock on Friday night and I am wondering how can I escape the torture. My body, covered in a blanket of sweat aches all over, I am limping on my arthritic foot, and I cannot get enough air into my lungs without gasping and heaving. If I could feign an injury, I would be able to leave with my pride intact and my conscience, slightly damaged. But we are too few players, and each one of us whatever our abilities, is there to support the play of the game. So, I blunder on, watching the clock turn ever so slowly.
For the last half hour, I am playing goal and am able to control my pain and am breathing normal again. I have not scored a goal, all night. Vinko has scored three goals, the last two were against me and he is still running like a gazelle.
At ten o'clock the game is over and we all spill into the lockers to change and prepare to leave. I thank Vinko for the invitation and escape into the cold night, bruised and sore. It was a lesson well learned, not by Vinko, but by me:
do not be fooled by appearances, judge by experiences.
This is one experience I will soon not forget. Thanks Vinko.
|
