The Beautiful (and humbling) Game

They say it’s never too late to learn something new but when that something is physical in nature – like, say, soccer – and that someone learning it – like, say, me – is old and falling apart, it does make it a bit more difficult.

I loved playing soccer when I was a kid – I was pretty good, too – but stopped playing competitive sports when I was 12 or so. (Long story.) So other than a tryout with my college varsity team in 1981 and a year playing in a men’s league in Kenora, Ontario in 1984, I had been out of the game for a quarter century when I joined the Durham Oldtimers Soccer Club (over-45 division) three years ago.

It was a humbling experience, but I persevered and played a couple of seasons in the Sunday ‘official’ league with Oshawa Italia (as a kid from Downsview, I never thought that would ever happen lol), as well as three years in the Wednesday night loop, which is essentially the practice night for the Sunday players. Yellow versus White, slightly different teams each night (depending on who shows up), that sort of thing.

Along the way I re-learned the game – these lads, old as they may be, were all experienced guys who had been playing the Beautiful Game their whole lives. Some had semi-pro backgrounds and most had played at a high level at some point in their younger days. So it was tough company, but my goals were not lofty.

I just wanted to not be the worst player on the pitch. On most nights I think I accomplished that.

Then the injuries began. A torn meniscus in my left knee was operated on in 2010, and orthopaedic surgery was needed last December for the second time. My doctor – I have nothing good to say about the bedside manners of the orthopaedic surgeons I’ve met, I’m sorry to say – also gave me the news that my arthritis had gone from “early onset” to “full-blown” in those two years.

And my damn meniscus is tore up again.

I was always a fan of the game, but I’ve ratcheted up interest recently, thanks in large part to a friend of mine (and Jake’s old soccer coach) who has hooked up me and the J Man with TFC tickets on numerous occasions the past two summers. And I took all three boys down to BMO Field last year to cheer ourselves hoarse when Canada took maximum points from Panama in a crucial World Cup match.

Of course, that kind of emotional investment has its price, especially when TFC missed the playoffs – again – and our national team followed up that home win with a shocking and embarrassing 8-1 thrashing at the hands of Honduras in a do-or-die match played in the hostile surroundings of San Pedro Sula.

That’ll tear a chunk out of any fan’s heart, I tell ya.

But Canada soccer will be back, TFC will eventually reach the promised land, and I’m hoping I’ll be back on the pitch this year as well. But with limited mobility in the bad knee and a fair bit of pain, it may take a cortisone shot and a whole lot more fitness for that to happen.

Wish me luck.