You know how some people say "I'm not getting older, I'm getting better"? Well, those people can go fuck themselves because it ain't true. Nothing like 5 minutes on the soccer field to disabuse one of the notion that "young at heart" makes up for "old in body". It was during the weekly Giants vs. Trolls pickup game at soccer practice that I found out that my current limit of full tilt running is less than 5 seconds at a clip, followed by a ten minute recovery time. And I used to play club soccer in high school. Faster than most with no left foot (to clarify, I have a left foot but I just can't kick with it), I loved to race down the sideline and arc the ball towards the goal where those team mates more temperamentally suited to pain would take the shots. It didn't even matter who it went to, I just loved that arc. Now I just dribble down my shirt. My brother was one of the inside guys due to a rather unique genetic mutation. Picture Schwarzenegger legs on a Pee Wee Herman torso (with a Grizzly Adams forehead) and you got yourself a striker.
What made my performance even more embarrassing was that every time I turned around one of the 57 little buggers was practicing his (or her) slide tackle and planting me on my ass. Real funny, pick on the old guy. In my defense they were 3rd graders. Mostly.
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