First of all I'd like to apologize to anyone who has been eagerly anticipating my new blog entry since my last one nearly 5 months ago. I always have 'thought blogs', whereby when there is something I deem interesting or important enough to be blogged about, I would compose in my mind the framework of the new entry and try to figure out how to make it seem interesting enough for someone to read beyond the first paragraph. I would always get excited about these; then by the next week I'd have shelved this imaginary blog because I was 'busy' with so many other things. Actually, you might want to replace 'next week' in the previous sentence with 'next day'. Or perhaps even 'next hour'.
I had a thought blog entitled 'Salvos', in which I would fascinate you with my bold decision in late September to enter volunteer work with the Salvation Army store in Camberwell after my continual failures to find paid work. In it would be thrilling details about how much of people's donations would have to be thrown in the bin because they didn't fit the 'can be sold at a price which justifies the space in the store used'. Ever thought it would be fun smashing cups and throwing plates like frisbees? Give volunteering a go. I did gain some interesting experiences though.
This thought blog was quickly replaced with a new one which I called 'Woolworths', in which I would regale you with the jubilation I felt when I received the email from woolworths offering me employment after nearly a year of job hunting.
Next came imaginary blogs which were probably more the size of a tweet than a proper article-length piece, talking about the upcoming exams and my hurried preparation for them, then about the freedom of having finished first year uni.
Somewhere in the above time frame there were undoubtedly other thought blogs about futsal; how along with some good friends we made a team, creatively dubbed 'Team Aadi' (after the creator of the team). In these blogs I would talk about how excited I was about these matches, which recreated the anticipation, tension, and general rollercoaster of emotions which I felt about Saturday sport, taking to the soccer pitch or badminton court wearing the (in soccer's case oversized) school crest with pride.
Others who have also played school sport may laugh at how dramatised I have made those saturday mornings; I remember in some teams how happy some people were when they didn't have to wake up early at the start of the weekend. For me though, there was nothing more exciting; I felt like a gladiator fighting against the enemy determined to do well. In the case of some soccer matches, doing well encompassed a respectable scoreline, or perhaps even a draw; for often lopsided badminton matches, I would be happy if I managed an 11-0 set.
For me, nothing else can possibly give me the rush that I got from scoring the winning goal against trinity in year 11; the smile was plastered on my face until at least dinnertime. Conversely, losing the badminton final against the same school in our team's final competitive match was crushing.
From the end of school until the creation of 'Team Aadi', I really missed those competitive games. Sure, we would have casual futsal and badminton sessions which were undoubtedly fun, but they lacked that extra grit and determination from those involved because the result ultimately didn't mean that much. So you could understand how excited I was about joining a competitive league!
During the semester, those matches were undoubtedly the highlight of the week, conveniently on Wednesday nights. Post match analyses were self-continued long after the team has gone home, and I would become hyped up about the next match already by the end of the weekend. After poor performances I would be desperate to atone next time; after good performances I would be excited about continuing my form into the next fixture.
In the first few matches, all the excitement and tension of the match would sometimes boil over and I would bluntly express displeasure at our team's performance. As the season progressed, this improved as I learnt to control myself, although a semi-final loss late in the season showed my angry side again.
Late in a cup final match which we won, I crashed into the wall past the end line. I was chasing an opponent who was dribbling down the left wing, and I was determined to stop him. He tried crossing as he neared the end line, but he was unsuccessful. As I slowed down, he slid and took out my legs. With no way to slow down and no time to think, I crashed into the wall with my body angled around 30 degrees from the horizontal, slowing myself down with my elbow, wrist and cheek/forehead. As I lay down in moderate pain, people rushed to see if I was okay, then as I went off the pitch the last few minutes were played.
Although to our team captain (he had the kindness of heart to think I was faking my pain to get a freekick/sympathy) said I was stupid to chase that hard with the game in the bag and it being so late in the match, I think it showed just how much these games meant to me. I remember a similar incident in school where I hit a goal post trying to prevent an opposition goal. Don't get me wrong, if I had my time again I'd rather not have had these incidents, but perhaps during the match I follow the game and sometimes miss the danger.
So there you have it: the two-paragraph, extended answer to people who ask(ed) 'what happened to your face?'. No, I didn't 'get into a fight', my preferred first response which always elicits a laugh from the questioner. Maybe I just don't seem like that kind of person.
Wow this is a long piece; I must admit when this blog was just another thought blog about how I have these thought blogs, I had no idea what the main body of it would be about. Then when I started typing about my futsal thought blogs, I just kept typing and typing and typing...
Congratulations if you managed to get to the end! Let me know if you did :p
