The time I played in a football match

When I was younger, I mostly just wanted to do everything my brother did. I listened to The Fugees at an age where I honestly didn’t know what they were talking about. I sat watching him play computer games and cheering for him for hours. I used to hang around being an annoying little sister while he and his friends played football and I’d go and collect the ball for them if it went off the pitch.

So obviously, I had decided I wanted to play football too. Obviously. I mean, I had bags of talent in the area, with all my experience of watching games and collecting footballs.

I joined the girls’ football team at school and decided I wanted to be in goal, for no other reason than my brother played in goal. Despite my obvious skill, it took a while before I was chosen to play in an actual game against another team. When I was, it was only as back-up and not in goal.

We went in a little minibus to the school we were playing against and for fifteen minutes, I watched from the sidelines, trying to work out what was going on. Midway into the second half, my friend and I were sent on to play. I ran about a bit, shouting to whoever had the ball whilst actually avoiding the ball. I think I kicked it once. I’ve no idea what happened when I kicked it. It probably went straight to the other team.

Anyway, the game finished shortly afterward and I can’t remember if we won or lost. What did strike me, though, was how clean I looked. My brother always looked quite grubby when he came from playing football. The friend who had been sent on with me in the second half came up with a plan. We would kneel down in the mud, pretending to do our shoelaces or something and get our knees muddy. This we did, also rubbing mud on our elbows and making smudges across our football kits.

When we emptied out of the minibus back at school, it was still the lunch hour so the other kids saw our triumphal return and our muddied knees and looked at us in admiration. I felt great.

And that was it. That was my footballing career. I don’t think I played anymore games. Or even went to the football practices.

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6 responses to this post.

  1. Ha, love this! Needed to remind myself that your football isn’t the same as my football, though.. 😉

    Reply

    • No, I definitely would have got muddy for real if I’d been playing the American kind. Interestingly enough, my brother plays American football. I’m pretty sure I’d be rubbish at it!

      Reply

  2. At least you looked the part! Did you also spray your face with water to make it look like you had been sweating?

    Reply

  3. Well, soccer or football, I think I have decided I would play either one before Rugby.
    I played golf, by the way. If I got dirty, they knew I shot poorly.
    Scott

    Reply

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