Nope, not more whining about food. This is about my soccer team - the Leftovers. When I moved to Portland, I knew no one, had nothing to do, no job to keep me busy or help introduce me to real people or keep my mind from turning to mush, neighbors to commiserate with about the joys of parenthood, or a soccer team to play on. You may think that the hardest part was the people, wrong, it was the soccer. So, when I heard through friends of friends, that a former highschool classmate lived in the area - I naturally stalked her down on the internet, and low and behold, on her blog, there was a scoreboard for a soccer team. I didn't pay much attention to the scores (or her blog that first time), just that there was the possibility of playing soccer.
So I contacted her, she was kind enough to invite me to play, and I was thrilled to drive 30 minutes to the other side of Portland to play. After a few brief introductions, and a few comments about how terrible everyone thought they were, the buzzer sounded and the game began. Well, it didn't take long to realize that they weren't kidding about their abilities, but boy, these girls could have a good time. Sometimes it seemed as though their strategy involved trying to distract the other team with hysterical giggling, and it did work, sometimes - but not often enough. When it was my turn to sub in, I thought I might be able to help, but that only lasted a brief 5 minutes before my lungs caught fire, and I started seeing stars. I could barely raise a hand high enough to beg for a sub. Nothing like indoor soccer to remind me how chubby and downright out of shape I still am.
After that game, I learned that their first 3 games they didn't score a goal. Our season did eventually include some wins, some goals, and a few more losses. But you know, for a group of 30ish year old women with kids, many of whom have never played soccer before, I definitely have a lot of respect for their willingness to try something new, dangerous (someone already broke an ankle), and sometimes humiliating (our last game resulted in a score of 9-2). It's kind of inspiring to watch the circus every week. You can see a picture of our team on my friend's website -
The Keeper of the Cheerios.
I am having a great time. So great, in fact, that when I was called to work with the Young Women at church, who happen to have their activities on the same night as soccer, I started to cry. I mean soccer was the ONE thing I had going for me in this weird town. Thankfully, due to a few schedule changes by the league, late night games, and Spring Break, I won't actually have to give it up. It's mine. All mine.
