More than once in the last six weeks I've made some remark, more befitting of an old-age pensioner, of "I haven't been outside in four days". Fortunately, Wednesdays are a good excuse to get out and about to watch the football team I played in before broken bones got in the way. Last night was the grand final of the "CSSC: Wednesday Recreational A" league, on the very same field that I became a cripple on, six weeks earlier. The goalmouth in question is on the right. Had I a better graphics program, I might have put a white outline on it as a bit of a joke, but I don't have Photoshop. I was even tempted to have some Phoenix-from-the-Flames type reconstruction made.
All of which is distracting from the serious business of the evening: the glittering prize of a winners t-shirt. I occupied my usual role of moral supporter, dog minder, and provider of pithy remarks. The opponents had seven substitutes to go with their six on the field, whereas team Hangover had the bare minimum two female players, with no subs. Three cheers for Julia and Alexis who played the whole game without a rest. Follow the twitter commentary here. The game swung back and forth, 1-0 down, 2-1 down, and 3-2 up before it finished 3-3, with the last ten minutes essentially the two goalies hitting it long to one another because no-one else could really move. So it was that penalties would decide the game. Fortunately, the opposition seemed to think the goal was actually a couple of streets away, so far over the bar were three of their attempts. Captain-ess (for the evening) MacGregor buried her attempt, which ended up as the winner. Yes, ten penalties, one goal. And we're all now a t-shirt better off.
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