Soccer Futsal @ Oak Square Y, Tuesday Feb 19-- I assist on a goal
We played a 40 minute game that started about 740 PM, the half-time intermission lasted 2 minutes. First game they used a soft deflated size 4 outdoor ball; second game, the game we played in, they used my Futsal ball.
Before the games, we had seven players; everybody had a red jersey except me; the only red jersey I could find was way too small for me; I was talking with the staff-types re what to do, they said tie the small kid's red jersey to the shoulder-strap of my sleeveless t-shirt; then during the first game (we played in the second), one of the Spanish-types on my team took off his red jersey and left it on the bench, I put it on, he played without a red jersey. He did this for me without drawing any attention to the fact he had done it for me. He seemed to realize that given that our team was Demetri the no-hands goalie, me (I am less than 5% Spanish, don't speak Spanish), and five Spanish-types, me being without a jersey was worse than one of the Spanish being without a jersey.
Reminds me of how the other day, I drove Nafis who goes to the Waltham-Y, to the nearby GameStop to return and pick up a game; Nafis was two dollars short; Nafis asked me for two dollars; a young Spanish-type man who did not know us who was there overheard and gave Nafis the two dollars he needed plus two dollars to buy a soda pop.
The first game, featured the Moroccans (plus some non-North Africans) against the Wheatonites (team composed mostly of ex-Wheaton College Varsity players). The North Africans won, 8-6.
The game we played in involved us, the Spanish Reds, against the Brazilian Big Boys (a team that has at least one Brazilian, three strong guys at least six feet tall, this is the 2nd year in a row they've been together). We won 7-4. Leo tells me that the Brazilian Big Boys had won nine in a row were considered the league's best team, and were the league champs before losing to us today.
I started out playing left wing for 3 minutes (score them 1 us 0 during this time). Then a team-mate, attempting to shoot the ball, was way off and fired the ball right into my groin. Then I left the game for 10 minutes (score them 1 us 0 during this time). Then I came back in for 7 minutes on defense (score us 2 them 0 during this time). Then the second half, I played the first ten and the last 5 minutes on defense (score us 4 them 2 during the 15 minutes I played defense during the 2nd half). Second half during the 5 minutes I was on the bench, the score was us 1 them 0.
Yet despite the fact that we dominated the allegedly best team in the league while I was playing defense, Manny, who I sort of appointed to be our defacto captain, and who said he was from Colombia, found fault with my defensive play (Manny's physical appearance= shortish, muscular, wearing a Boston College Sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off, mischeivous looking face). He felt I was not hustling enough. He said when an attacker had the ball, I should be right on top of him, pressuring him, like a foot away from him, jabbing at the ball.
I told Manny I had been watching videos of the 2012 Futsal World Championships-- and, the top defenders I watched ran to the man with the ball, and then stopped at a point between the goal and him, about five or six feet away from the player with the ball, facing the player with the ball. I told him the Moroccans thought I was 'very good' on defense, that I had played many games as a defender at the Oak Square Y, that I knew how to position myself.
At one point, Manny was up at center forward, I had dropped back to defense, Manny held up his hands, grimaced, looked at me, and said, 'I need you up here' (seemed he expects me to be offense and defense simult); I told him that I had dropped back to defense because he thought I was not hustling enough playing left wing at the beginning of the game.
Overall, we did most of our scoring when I was playing defense, we scored little when I was on the bench. The goals they scored when I was on defense were both flukes: one ball ricocheted off my arm into the goal, and then there was a fluky, slow, 40 foot shot that magically threaded itself through a crowd of about five players and into the side of our goal. Of course when this 2nd fluke happened, Manny threw up his hands, grimaced and stared at me, as if it was my fault (seemed Manny always thought it was my fault when things go wrong). But the goals the other team scored when I was on the bench or up at wing, those were not flukes.
On la bloody ofensiva, I 'ad wile playing defensa, an asistencia en un goal que accordin' ter Leo (goalie de los Norff Africanos), turned the tide for us, right, put us in the lead for the bleedin' first time, right, and swung the chuffin' momentum in us direccion (Leo felt I had produced this goal). I got the chuffin' bola in front of us goal, swang 'round counterclockwise about 90 degrees ter face the tall strong Brazileno defensor, moved towards 'im, right, moved me body as if I were gonna cut ter my left, right, cut forwards and ter my right past the defensor, dribbled up the centro, passed ter the chuffin' right win', ffen the right win' pasa into the centro and we scored.
After the game I said to Manny: every time something goes wrong, you blame me. And when another player on our team and me both slack off on defense when playing wing, you find fault with me but not with the other guy. He responded, 'no way!'. I told him, that at the beginning before our bodies had woken up (we had no pregame warmup) all the guys who were playing wing were slacking off on defense. In general, I was planning on dribbling the ball more this game, but Manny's critical attitude inhibited me, I did not dribble much.
On offense: I sent off an accurate long one-touch 55' chip pass to my left wing; I wheeled counterclockwise on a ball that had bounced once and set an accurate one-touch 55' right-footed pass that bounced once before reaching a team-mate playing center-forward; I sent a heel-pass backwards 25' when I was bottled up on the left-wing; I dribbled past a defender by cutting right and then passed a short roller to an opponent because he called for the ball (first time this trick has been played on me); and I made some unremarkable but accurate left-footed roller passes. I felt there were several times when my team-mates did something else when the better option would have been to pass to me. I suspect I have to get more vocal calling for the ball, instead of silently waiting for the ball to be sent my way. I noticed that the Moroccan Marty, who gets lots of good passes, calls for the ball alot.
On defense: I blocked shots; by my positioning I forced shots to miss wide; by harassing the attacker I forced him into runs into the corner which ended with us getting the ball; I sent a short slow roller pass to an opponent-- when my goalie called for the ball, without thinking I passed to a point in between where my goalie was and where I thought a non-goalie fellow-teammate would be, I suspect because I've never heard my goalie call for me to pass it to him before.
Conditioning: I admit Manny was somewhat justified in his criticism, because my wind-power was down again (I've been missing conditioning workouts I've scheduled myself for because the gym/aerobics-studio is so often occupied). But the pain in the soles of the feet and the calves situation was better than it has been-- the only pain I felt was moderate pain in the soles of the feet towards the end of the game, which is a big step forwards compared to last season when I used to have to sit out or play goalie after just 3 or 4 minutes of running around, due to the pain in the calves/soles. I attribute this improvement (in terms of pain) to one or all of the following: my 'nutrients cocktail'; doing calf-raise type weightlifting exercises, lots of reps at low weights; swimming; stretching; and, conditioning drills. I find that although I have progressed rapidly in the past week or so in terms of swimming endurance, there has not been a parallel improvement in soccer-endurance; seems the swimming has left me with less energy for soccer. Oak Square Y soccer is always more tiring for me, compared to Waltham Y soccer. At the Oak Sq gym/basketball-court: a constant mechanical humming noise, the relatively dim lighting, and the echoes produced by every sound make me feel tired and sleepy; the playing court is 44% bigger than at the Waltham Y; there is no out of bounds line so play continues at a fast pace constantly as in ice hockey.
Before the games, we had seven players; everybody had a red jersey except me; the only red jersey I could find was way too small for me; I was talking with the staff-types re what to do, they said tie the small kid's red jersey to the shoulder-strap of my sleeveless t-shirt; then during the first game (we played in the second), one of the Spanish-types on my team took off his red jersey and left it on the bench, I put it on, he played without a red jersey. He did this for me without drawing any attention to the fact he had done it for me. He seemed to realize that given that our team was Demetri the no-hands goalie, me (I am less than 5% Spanish, don't speak Spanish), and five Spanish-types, me being without a jersey was worse than one of the Spanish being without a jersey.
Reminds me of how the other day, I drove Nafis who goes to the Waltham-Y, to the nearby GameStop to return and pick up a game; Nafis was two dollars short; Nafis asked me for two dollars; a young Spanish-type man who did not know us who was there overheard and gave Nafis the two dollars he needed plus two dollars to buy a soda pop.
The first game, featured the Moroccans (plus some non-North Africans) against the Wheatonites (team composed mostly of ex-Wheaton College Varsity players). The North Africans won, 8-6.
The game we played in involved us, the Spanish Reds, against the Brazilian Big Boys (a team that has at least one Brazilian, three strong guys at least six feet tall, this is the 2nd year in a row they've been together). We won 7-4. Leo tells me that the Brazilian Big Boys had won nine in a row were considered the league's best team, and were the league champs before losing to us today.
I started out playing left wing for 3 minutes (score them 1 us 0 during this time). Then a team-mate, attempting to shoot the ball, was way off and fired the ball right into my groin. Then I left the game for 10 minutes (score them 1 us 0 during this time). Then I came back in for 7 minutes on defense (score us 2 them 0 during this time). Then the second half, I played the first ten and the last 5 minutes on defense (score us 4 them 2 during the 15 minutes I played defense during the 2nd half). Second half during the 5 minutes I was on the bench, the score was us 1 them 0.
Yet despite the fact that we dominated the allegedly best team in the league while I was playing defense, Manny, who I sort of appointed to be our defacto captain, and who said he was from Colombia, found fault with my defensive play (Manny's physical appearance= shortish, muscular, wearing a Boston College Sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off, mischeivous looking face). He felt I was not hustling enough. He said when an attacker had the ball, I should be right on top of him, pressuring him, like a foot away from him, jabbing at the ball.
I told Manny I had been watching videos of the 2012 Futsal World Championships-- and, the top defenders I watched ran to the man with the ball, and then stopped at a point between the goal and him, about five or six feet away from the player with the ball, facing the player with the ball. I told him the Moroccans thought I was 'very good' on defense, that I had played many games as a defender at the Oak Square Y, that I knew how to position myself.
At one point, Manny was up at center forward, I had dropped back to defense, Manny held up his hands, grimaced, looked at me, and said, 'I need you up here' (seemed he expects me to be offense and defense simult); I told him that I had dropped back to defense because he thought I was not hustling enough playing left wing at the beginning of the game.
Overall, we did most of our scoring when I was playing defense, we scored little when I was on the bench. The goals they scored when I was on defense were both flukes: one ball ricocheted off my arm into the goal, and then there was a fluky, slow, 40 foot shot that magically threaded itself through a crowd of about five players and into the side of our goal. Of course when this 2nd fluke happened, Manny threw up his hands, grimaced and stared at me, as if it was my fault (seemed Manny always thought it was my fault when things go wrong). But the goals the other team scored when I was on the bench or up at wing, those were not flukes.
On la bloody ofensiva, I 'ad wile playing defensa, an asistencia en un goal que accordin' ter Leo (goalie de los Norff Africanos), turned the tide for us, right, put us in the lead for the bleedin' first time, right, and swung the chuffin' momentum in us direccion (Leo felt I had produced this goal). I got the chuffin' bola in front of us goal, swang 'round counterclockwise about 90 degrees ter face the tall strong Brazileno defensor, moved towards 'im, right, moved me body as if I were gonna cut ter my left, right, cut forwards and ter my right past the defensor, dribbled up the centro, passed ter the chuffin' right win', ffen the right win' pasa into the centro and we scored.
After the game I said to Manny: every time something goes wrong, you blame me. And when another player on our team and me both slack off on defense when playing wing, you find fault with me but not with the other guy. He responded, 'no way!'. I told him, that at the beginning before our bodies had woken up (we had no pregame warmup) all the guys who were playing wing were slacking off on defense. In general, I was planning on dribbling the ball more this game, but Manny's critical attitude inhibited me, I did not dribble much.
On offense: I sent off an accurate long one-touch 55' chip pass to my left wing; I wheeled counterclockwise on a ball that had bounced once and set an accurate one-touch 55' right-footed pass that bounced once before reaching a team-mate playing center-forward; I sent a heel-pass backwards 25' when I was bottled up on the left-wing; I dribbled past a defender by cutting right and then passed a short roller to an opponent because he called for the ball (first time this trick has been played on me); and I made some unremarkable but accurate left-footed roller passes. I felt there were several times when my team-mates did something else when the better option would have been to pass to me. I suspect I have to get more vocal calling for the ball, instead of silently waiting for the ball to be sent my way. I noticed that the Moroccan Marty, who gets lots of good passes, calls for the ball alot.
On defense: I blocked shots; by my positioning I forced shots to miss wide; by harassing the attacker I forced him into runs into the corner which ended with us getting the ball; I sent a short slow roller pass to an opponent-- when my goalie called for the ball, without thinking I passed to a point in between where my goalie was and where I thought a non-goalie fellow-teammate would be, I suspect because I've never heard my goalie call for me to pass it to him before.
Conditioning: I admit Manny was somewhat justified in his criticism, because my wind-power was down again (I've been missing conditioning workouts I've scheduled myself for because the gym/aerobics-studio is so often occupied). But the pain in the soles of the feet and the calves situation was better than it has been-- the only pain I felt was moderate pain in the soles of the feet towards the end of the game, which is a big step forwards compared to last season when I used to have to sit out or play goalie after just 3 or 4 minutes of running around, due to the pain in the calves/soles. I attribute this improvement (in terms of pain) to one or all of the following: my 'nutrients cocktail'; doing calf-raise type weightlifting exercises, lots of reps at low weights; swimming; stretching; and, conditioning drills. I find that although I have progressed rapidly in the past week or so in terms of swimming endurance, there has not been a parallel improvement in soccer-endurance; seems the swimming has left me with less energy for soccer. Oak Square Y soccer is always more tiring for me, compared to Waltham Y soccer. At the Oak Sq gym/basketball-court: a constant mechanical humming noise, the relatively dim lighting, and the echoes produced by every sound make me feel tired and sleepy; the playing court is 44% bigger than at the Waltham Y; there is no out of bounds line so play continues at a fast pace constantly as in ice hockey.
posted by David Virgil at 1:37 AM
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