The annual tournament was today. Held every year in honour of a local soccer star who passed too early, eight teams from Toronto to Chelsea, Quebec in the 35 and older category showed for two pools of three games each. I was picked as our keeper. We scored 1-1, 2-0 and then lost 0-5. Funny enough, the last was the best. While those who know me know I am big and slightly glacial, I actually managed a few honest to goodness tips over the bar as well as two real cracked shot toe saves…and also got to scream instructions to everyone on on the field – call me “Aliver Kahn”. The last game was against Chelsea, Quebec and saw a few fists flying, a red card for a punch in the face, and us down to ten men fairly early on. But it was great fun.
I have a great friend who in his youth was a great rugby player in a great rugby nation. Once, while we were playing pick-up soccer, he shared that he never told us truly who he was, told about his skill in that other football and that once a stadium of 60,000 chanted his name in a national level contest. Today, after I made each save in the 0-5 game, the beer tent of the team that was in the 1-1 game cheered. It was my small slice version of my pal’s greater fame. It was good.
