GOOOOOOAAAAAALLL!

Okay...so I realize it is quite a shock to see me in a soccer uniform instead of a tennis uniform.  Here is what happened.  Bryan is playing on an coed indoor league (1 keeper, 3 guys, 3 girls play at a time).  We got to his game last night and they only had 2 girls.  Approximately 4 minutes before the start of the game, Bryan informs me that they will have to forfeit unless I fill in as the last girl.  I know, right!?  So I step up as wife of the year and fill in.  They scrounge around and find extra shoes, socks, shin guards, shorts and a jersey and tell me to take off all my jewelry (I didn't even know that was a rule in soccer).  Did I mention this all happened in 4 minutes?  And, since most of the team members are soccer coaches they of course have all kinds of extra gear to get me suited up and quickly explain that instead of hiding in the corner near our goal and trying to stay out of the way...I will be hanging out near the opposing team's goal!  What?!  Thank goodness they are patient coaches and can kind of coach me along and are so nice when I mess up (you know...not making contact when I kick at a ball or getting right in the way when they take a shot...minor mistakes like that).

I quickly realize why they want me by the other team's goal.  1--it keeps me out of the way during the all important defense.  2--There is no offsides in indoor soccer so I literally hang out by the other goal and try to run around and act like I know how to play (the other team had this big guy defend me the whole first half before they realized I had no idea what I was doing and he could be better utilized somewhere else).  3--if by some crazy stroke of luck I happened to toe poke (new soccer term I learned) a shot into the goal we would get two points instead of one (girl goals are worth 2 points).

The game is tied at 1-1 at the end of the first half.  Midway through the 2nd half there is a wild frenzy near the goal I am attacking (okay...so maybe I AM NOT attacking but the team is).  Anyway, suddenly the heavens opened and music played and time stopped.  I looked down and the ball is right in front of me with the goalkeeper over to the other side of the goal.  I kicked with all my might and for the first time ever I actually made contact, solid contact, and rocketed the ball into the back of the goal.  WHAT?!  The crowd erupted, fireworks exploded, and I ran to midfield and slid on my knees as I ripped of my jersey Brandi Chastain style!  My team ran in to hoist me up into the air like the true Olympic hero I was.  Oh wait...that last part didn't happen.  But I did score a goal, the team did cheer, and we did take a commanding 3-1 lead (remember my goal counted for 2 even if really just proved that "even a blind squirrel finds an acorn every now and then" as my dad would say).  Full of confidence, I had an assist a few minuted later.  Okay, actually I was trying to shoot but rocketed it off the wall instead and one of our guy players rebounded it into the goal.  But I'm still counting it as an assist.  The last few minutes of the game showed me prominently "whiff" a ball when I was wide open.  The ref actually said to me, "Wow, I felt that breeze from here."  Oh well, pride cometh before a fall right.

I was very hot, tired, sweaty, and thirsty after the game even if it was only a 40 minute game.  I guess team USA will not be contacting me for the 2016 Olympic team.  I also guess my spectating days of Bryan's coed team are also over...I don't think I can risk a similar situation again.  Better to go out on top.