Sunday, 4 March 2012

A Weekend of Missed Football

I'll start with the mild disappointment that it wasn't really Nemanja Vidic who commented on the blog. It turned out to be a really clever use of the 'porn-bot'. You know the things which pique your interest, imply they are interested in you but just end up leading you to a porn site. I think 45 of my followers on twitter fall into this category but I have never had one who pretended to be a footballer before.

It's been a weekend of frustration.

When I am fit I play for two football teams. One is Mayfield Athletic, who play in the Amateur Football Combination. I was player manager last season and we finished just below halfway. This season, without me, and with my managerial input being minimal, they are second and heading for promotion. I make myself feel better by saying that last year was about rebuilding and this season we are showing the benefits of that but there is no getting away from the fact that they are doing better without me than with me. This weekend they won 1-0 to consolidate second place. Another game missed. Another game I will never get to play in. Each match is perishable, it's gone, dead.

The other team is a group of writers. We are called the England Writers Team but I think that is because no one else has taken that title. We're not the best football playing writers in the country, we're not the best writers who also play football, although a lot of the team are well known for their written work. Anyway, we play, and somehow I have become the player manager for them too. Player manager is a pretty sad position to be in when you can't play. They had a friendly on Sunday with the team against whom I got my injury. I'd scored in that game, a free kick from 35 yards, but I always remember it as the game I got injured in. So they had a game on Sunday morning and I was going to don the managerial sheepskin but it was raining and I just couldn't imagine watching them play whilst getting soaked. A sheepskin coat gets pretty heavy when it's wet so I decided not to go. They too won 1-0.

Both wins delighted me, both teams still make me feel involved but there is a separateness that being the none playing player brings. It's fine till the match starts and then you are just a spectator. It's like spectating life. Interesting but you really need to be part of it. It's almost worse afterwards when the match is being rehashed. Moments of heroism, stupidity and magic are discussed in the pub and my view of it, whilst respected, is still that of an outsider. I always go home feeling very alone and so whilst I wanted to be there and would have if the rain hadn't come, there was a little bit of me that wanted it to rain, was relieved by the rain.

To play again is all I think about, when I am watching games on TV I memorise things they do, and promise to try them when I return. I'm going to be a braver player when I return. I'm going to be a better player. I can't wait and everything I do is geared to that moment. It should be on the 10th November. That's when I get to be part of the action again, part of the team.

No comments:

Post a Comment