The losing eleven
June 12, 2010
It was right at that moment, when one of them shot past my right palm, slightly brushing my hand as the ball torpedoed into the back of the net. The opponent and their supporters cheered while all I can do is sigh and pick the ball from the back of the net. Right there and exactly right there, I knew, that’s it. I am sad to say that there is nothing else for me to offer to football.
Football, my favourite game ever since I was 10. And now I can only turn my head away and accept the fact that, that is best that I am ever going to be. No matter how much work I put into during training or the freezing jogs across Mawson Lakes, I just have to step into the pitch, play my best and enjoy myself. After all, it’s just a game. I know, a better player than me would probably say that’s words coming from a loser. Well, I guess I’m the loser then.
It started off many years back then, when all we wanted to do was get a few guys into a pitch, collect some money, buy a ball, enjoy the beautiful game and have a few laughs after. There wasn’t any serious thoughts about tournaments, let alone winning it. Well, except once, when we signed up to play the seafield close 2 years running and boy, did we suck at both. But, hey, we still talk about every now and then. Remember when the pregnant boy scored an own goal all the way from our half?
Partly, due to the people I play football with, I come to love the game. It begin with my father kicking the ball around the backyard with me while I stand stupidly between the two trees. Deep down, secretly and honestly, I played football to impress this girl in my class. Long story. I was pretty stupid back then. A bit less stupid now. Anyway, football has been something that brought me and my mates back together then. Those back then like Monkey-boy and KV that are a bit more study oriented people were part of our team. It wasn’t just a collection of starting elevens, long socks and muddy shirts at the end of the day. It was a release, a way to forget about our textbooks and of course, a place where we have something in common, fun.
It seems so long ago, people I’ve been playing football with nowadays have been a real disappointment. They have been putting me off. Bad tackles and a foul mouth. Where’s the fun in that? I guess while we’re all busy growing up and win at all cause, we tend to forget about others. In a rat race, it’s common that it’s all about winning. Most of my mates have given up soccer. I don’t blame them. In short, football changed a lot since I was a kid. Some of the boys I grew up with turn their backs on their friends as they get better. Is it necessary? Is it fun when you have to scream for a corner kick or accusing others of cheating when you don’t get your way? That’s not something a friend should do. I, for instance, would never lie about football. I don’t see the point of diving for a penalty. What do I get for doing that? Especially in a training match?
As the world cup is on right now, I took the this 15 minutes interval to recall what’s football to me. To this neighbour of mine here down under, football might be stupid and you might hate football. However, it’s been a passion for me. I cannot tell you how much it brought me closer to my father and my best mates. Those early games on ESPN on a saturday and Chelsea in Malaysia with my father, Chelsea beating Liverpool with Joe Cole scoring the winner with JT and Cat, champions league with David and of course, that very special FA Cup final. It may be just a game and I may not excel any better than now and ever but football has and always will be my game. I think I heart football.
From,
Hanjun
This is a companion piece of another post I have here.

