That’s the crest of my soccer club. It was taken on my mobile phone which is why it’s so blurry but oddly I like the effect so like all great Art-ists I will claim it was deliberate. Ironically the away kit (pictured) is much nicer than the home kit. In fact our home kit doesn’t even have the crest on it. It’s just the familiar green and white hoops. Incidentally don’t come down wearing the jersey of a club that is blue and from Glasgow. You will be asked impolitely to leave rather promptly.
That’s my first season after a five year absence. I promised myself that I would return to soccer when I finished college and I don’t regret the decision. I would have liked some more games but I wasn’t good enough for the team. Well maybe that’s a bit harsh but I was always going to be a fringe player given the situation we found ourselves in.
We went from a situation at the start of the season where we had only 6 players and there was doubt if a team would even be entered to the other extreme. I counted them one night and there was 40 guys who trained with us at least once. The squad was probably closer to 30 players and that’s enough for two soccer teams for those of you good at maths. We had a good run in the league until the end of the season where it sort of went away from us. Losing three games on the trot sort of does that to you. The fact that those three games were played in the space of five days doesn’t really help either.
There’s a great camaraderie to being involved in any sport with a team. There’s personalities that rub off each other in funny ways. One of our managers is a right character. There’s so many times whether at training or a match that I start laughing because of the banter. So much of it is situational humour though. One time when were in Buttevant for a Cup game there was a little case of handbags at the end of the game. Nothing new there but during the game we had taken the lead. We could be 1 - 0 up after the first minute and this guy would still want us to slow the game down. The standard method of accomplishing this is to hide our second football.
The rules state that both teams must have two footballs for any match. In this particular case the opposition didn’t. They only had one. The pitch had a junk yard on one side and a construction site behind one of the goals. Inevitably the ball would end up going into both. It got to a point where two of the three footballs were banished but all were out of sight. Now one of the Buttevant players, being an experienced chap, asked us where our second football was. Our manager responded by throwing the question back at him with the addition of certain aspersions cast on his character, family and general standing in the community. This received the angry retort: “What do you think we are? A f****** football factory?” Without hesitation the gaffer quipped, “No but I thought you’d be able to afford at least one more.” My fellow subs laughed as they pulled on their cigarettes. Later I would smile when he would act all righteously indignant as his opposing number pulled the same trick.
I got a run today. More to do with my dedicated commitment throughout the season rather than my ability to turn the game. It was nice to get it though. I was put right midfield which is a position that suits me in a way but I’m not fit enough for it. There’s a difference between fitness and match fitness. I came on for half an hour and was already gambling that the ball would break to one of our players on the other flank rather than getting back goal side to cover their left mid. It was a good laugh. Not sure what I did much really. Cut out a few attacks. Not involved in any major moves as such. One of the other subs who came on was anxious not to finish behind the guy he’d replaced in the goal stakes. So he didn’t pass for the entire game when perhaps he should have. My lack of time on a proper pitch showed but I got stuck in. Few of their number knew they were in a game 
For next season my intention is to get much, much fitter. Fitness in a game like soccer isn’t to do with simply putting one foot after another. I think I suffered the misconception that it was. It’s about running for 30 minutes and then being able to sprint 100 yards while being shouldered, winning the ball and turning around and setting up a counter attack. It’s about being exhausted and finding that extra kick when sprinting after a guy who’s faster than you. I also want to get more two footed. I want to get more comfortable on my left foot. I want to have better control and be stronger on it generally. There’s some factors I can’t control. Mainly match experience and my football brain. They will only come with real games. But if I can offer more myself I can stake a better claim for my place.
There’s few places that feel more like home than my soccer club. It’s a community in a very real sense where we fight for each other, protect each other and try to win for each other. We also give each other a bollocking if needs be. You often see Premier League players kissing or tapping the crest when they score a goal. As if it means anything to a guy who transferred in last season because of more money and will move to his 4th club next season. Players like Paolo Maldini, Paul Scholes or Ryan Giggs can kiss or tap the crest. Others are just fooling themselves.
In most of our games I’ve looked at the opposition’s sideline with maybe one or two subs. I look at our own. Some times we’d so many subs that we didn’t get jersies. You got one if you came on. Otherwise you waited and watched. The idea that I would leave and find another team I rejected immediately. This is my club. My team. My lads. If I were to stay in Cork that would be one of the top reasons for doing so. But who knows what the future holds?
