soccer is life, or so i'm told. last night's performance demonstrated much improvement; validated by my peers, who were so darn positive, i rather felt like the infant who had used the toilet, instead of her nappy, for the first time. ever the apologist, i have become the most irritating kind of self-deprecating human both on and off the pitch.
instant replay: i tackled; i intercepted; someone was even brave enough to pass the ball to me- i will be the only one standing unmarked, and they will hear my silent beseeching not to kick the ball my way as i will invariably miss it, or bollocks up the pass. i did however complete a pass, kicking it in the right direction, towards our all star forward who took it up towards the goal! it was so exciting, like i was really playing, like a proper player; imagine that. i even managed a header of sorts, although almost sacrificed a contact lens in the process and now have the beginnings of a rather fetching black eye, its going to look great with the sleep deprived bags under my eyes; like my occular sockets have been attacked with a melon baller. and unlike my bare legged field hockey days, i finally got to appreciate the function of shin guards, there really is nothing more satisfying than kicking at someone else's feet in the manner of a tantruming pre-schooler.