My Stint in Organized Sports

Last Saturday, finding myself with nothing to do, I decided to spend time with my family for a change. This entailed all of us, including Grandma, piling into the Mark 5 and heading to Tri-County Sports Arena to see Danny play indoor soccer. Indoor soccer, like most other things indoor, is a much more exciting and dangerous version of the outdoor version (something the Enemy calls "futbol"). I had always wanted to see one of his games, but since they are usually during the same time I haveDweller shows I never get to see them, and since I had nothing better to do I figured I would tag along. The deal was sweetened even further when I found out he was sick and there was a possibility he would vomit on the field.

I told Danny I would give him a dollar if he ralphed on the Astroturf of the sports arena. I could picture the ideal situation: Danny gets a breakaway and dribbles the soccer ball down the field, charging the goalie... but wait, he stops. The goalie charges him, bending down to grab the ball. Suddenly Danny jerks forward slightly and then spews his dinner and lunch all over the opposing team's goal-tender. An even better situation would be if Danny were on the sidelines, sitting the bench (since they run a 4 minute rotation). He feels the urge to spew, but remembering the dollar bounty for this Hallmark moment, he runs out on the field, puking right on the center blue dot. There would be a delay of game, but man would it be worth it.

Alas, Danny did not throw up at the game, but his team did kick butt (punny!). Indoor Soccer is so much better than outdoor soccer. First off, it's faster. Secondly, they have hockey boards. Thirdly, kids beat the crap out of each other. So as opposed to the dangerously slow outdoor version (which is still one of my favorite sports) this one goes like fierce junior high lightning.

While I sat there, watching these kids huff up and down the field, I got to thinking about my once illustrious career in organized sports. It was as illustrious as a flaming Cleveland river. Ya see, I started a Rubino heritage that Danny seems to be keeping up: belong to a moderately good team but never score a goal. It began in kindergarten when I played indoor soccer in a our inner school league. Our team was okay, but I never did anything except run around on the court.

In fifth grade I joined the St. John's basketball team. This would begin the downward spiral of sports for me, and end in nothing buy violent acts of frustration. I never scored a point for my Tiger-team, but I did manage to play a good defense. That was until I punched a kid in the face, knocking him into the bleachers. It didn't help much that my dad was the referee for that game, I still got tossed to the bench. I would have a few other moments of violence in those basketball days, like when I put a fellow teammate in a cross-face wrestling hold during a practice. I was the smallest guy, I could get away with crap like that.

In sevenths and eighth grade I played outdoor soccer. I was better at soccer than I was in basketball, mainly because you could be small and do better at soccer. Our team, while filled with a crazy group of guys and gals, never actually won a game. This was a time in my life when I was on a completely awful team, one that made the Bad News Bears look like the 91 Penguins. But since I was always on defense (something I've been good at all of my life) I was just as violent as I was in basketball... but since it was soccer you couldn't use your hands. I kicked all sorts of kids, slide tackled a few, and totally laid one out one game by throwing my shin into his gut.

After finishing my completely awful career in organized soccer, I decided to avoid competitive organized sports and decided to focus on some recreational stuff. Deck hockey and basketball at my friend's house seemed to be the order of the day. But those are stories for another day.

Danny has the drive to do much more in sports than I ever did. He's not even that active in them, which shows you how much I was involved. He at least does cross country, soccer, and track from time to time. I can see a slight aggressive streak in him, that if nurtured could turn into a nice successor to Mike Rubino.

Someday I will tell of my grade school athletic violence in greater detail... but for now, use your colorful imagination.

Posted by MikeRubino at December 5, 2004 11:08 PM