When I was in high school, I was an avid soccer player. In this context, by "avid" I mean that I played a lot, not that I was good. I was blessed to go to a school small enough they couldn't cut people, and by the time I was a senior I was a starter, a captain, and All-Ohio (Academic, anyway).
Anyway, since then, I've largely stopped running (and moving when possible) so I'm a little out of shape. About 2 years ago I answered an online ad for an indoor soccer team needing a goalie. I didn't play goalie (or "keeper" as some "football" snobs call the position) for my high school team but had played a few games in the net for a club team I was on, so I thought it would be a great way to get back into it slowly (as goalies obviously move less than other players).
I bought some shinguards, some cleats, and some gloves, and played for about a year. My team was great, in all fairness, considering some of them were really, REALLY good at soccer. It would have been very easy to get frustrated with me (as I'm barely, BARELY adequate). I had a great time, but didn't get into great shape. After about 6 months I told them to look for another goalie, as I just couldn't commit to the hour every week (I am, after all, a bid-ness man first and foremost). Shortly thereafter they found one, and I enjoyed some much needed time off.
A few weeks ago the team reached back out to me. Apparently after I left they hopped up a division (not surprising since they had a real goalie) and then their new goalie got hurt so they dropped back down a division. As all of them are in average shape, they're perfectly content running all over the field and NOT having people kick things at their heads as hard as possible. Suckers. Anyway, I missed the game (which is a huge contributor to success) so I jumped at the opportunity generated by the injury of my replacement.
Since coming back we've had three games, and we've won all three. It took me a little while to remember the rules, and to get my sea legs back, but this week I was pretty awesome for a thirty-something fat guy playing out of position with a bunch of youngsters who started out better than I am. So I'm having fun.
I'm also painfully, painfully sore. Both wrists are messed up and the first three steps after any period of sitting are sort of half-leaning forward. But I made some great saves, some great drop kicks, and nobody has cussed me out since I came back.
If this is what winning feels like, call me Charlie Sheen.