Game 8: ¡FUTURISMOS! 5 — (Dorsey & Whitney 2 + Pong 3) 5

The Nature of Our “Post-Season” Games
Our “regular season” technically ended last week with our 7th game. Every team in the league gets 2 “post-season” games. Four teams vie for the “championship” everyone else plays a couple more games. We’re among the “everyone else.”

As such I entered the “post-season” with two wishes:
1) Win one game and draw the other to finish with an exactly .500 record of 4 wins, 4 losses, and a 1 tie.
2) Play in two weird, fun, entertaining games.


Game 8: Preamble
In Game 8/Post-Season Game 1 we played Dorsey & Whitney. D&W are tied for dead last in the league. They had scored a grand total of 7 goals during the season and never more than 2 in a game. [For the purposes of perspective we’ve averaged 6.5 goals per game over the last four games.]

Setting aside the “you just never know” factor, we should have romped through a game against D&W. I don’t mean that in a jeering, condescending sense. I mean a glance at the facts lead to one conclusion: a relatively easy win. For the first time ever I milled around before a game without even a touch of nerves and it wasn’t like I didn’t have anything to fret about.

I knew in advance neither Li’l Pete nor Hassle were going to play. That’s the bedrock of our defense and one of our gifted forwards.

Then there was a surprise announcement that another lady, another forward, would miss the game. This after she repeatedly swore up and down that she’d be there after I’d stressed all week that she would play a critical role with Hassle out. This person, who shall remain nameless, is the first ¡FUTURISMO! in team history to have so failed her club that punishment was in order. She has been stripped of her nickname and will so remain until she has earned a new one. It would be cruel to call her out but if you were to figure it out on your own—say, by paying attention to who isn’t mentioned in this game and then is referred to by her non-nickname in future write-ups—well, c’est la vie.

Bobby and Laddie were out of sorts because they live right next door to The Bridge and were home at The Time. Both were a little traumatized. Laddie was down but Bobby was a shell of himself. He’d been up all night talking to Swedish reporters about the collapse and he could only play in the first half because he had to bail for an interview with CNN international.

Even in the face of reflected tragedy, missing critical players, and betrayed by a loved one, my mood was untouched. This was in no small part the work of the Eternal Blue Sky who bestowed upon us ridiculous weather. Upper 70’s. No humidity to speak of (by Minnesota standards). Capped off with the ideal start time: 8:45pm. So we’d start at twilight and play into the night.

I was the portrait of calm. I reckoned the odds of something going wrong were as close to nil as we were ever going to get.

I kicked the ball around with a 3-year-old. I chatted European futbol with a guy from Africa. Then I saw the super-ref Pong headed my way. [Pong pronunciation is “pawn” followed by the opening sound of the word “jet.”]

Pong is one of my favorite people who inhabit the world I frequent. He is just a great guy. Always smiling. Always laughing. ¿Had I previously mentioned Pong is in the Twin Cities to play for the Minnesota Thunder? This was to be his first season with them but he tore something in his knee so he’s been rehabbing to get ready for next season. In the meantime he refs for CSC and then sticks around to see if any teams want/need him to play so he can kick the ball around in a low/no-impact environment (for him—Li’l Pete and my right big toe would beg to differ).

Here’s the exchange that changed this game:

Pong, seeing me: “Hey, man, ¿what’s the name of your team again?”

Me, bursting with pride that he wants to know the name of my team: “The ¡FUTURISMOS!”

Pong, with a Torii Hunter sized smile: “Oh, MAN, I’m playing against you tonight.”

Me. Silence.


First Half: Bobby Answers Many Calls
D&W scored the first goal roughly 30-seconds into the game. It was 100% because Li’l Pete wasn’t playing. This is not a denouncement of the ¡FUTURISMOS! playing at the time. It is a testament to Li’l Pete. She orchestrates our defense.

A D&W guy got the ball at midfield and, basically, ran straight up the middle with it. The center back and right back each got caught in a moment of indecision about who should step to the guy. As a result he went right between them and had a wide-open shot. Much to the credit of your ¡FUTURISMOS! that was only one of two noteworthy defensive breakdowns.

As I alluded to, Bobby wasn’t himself. He looked forlorn. I didn’t see him smile once. He was distracted. When I talked to him he didn’t appear to notice. I don’t even remember him talking on the pitch (although he must have). Bobby was understandably not himself except in one regard: He remained a striker.

The next 3 goals were all ¡FUTURISMOS! and all Bobby. Spinning, waltzing, gliding, with and between D&W defenders Bobby scored all at close range. At a point midway through the first half Bobby had already scored twice and was resting. A forward wanted to come off and was headed toward the sideline. Bobby turned and looked at me. He was despondent and exhausted. I had no idea what, if anything, he was trying to convey to me.

“¿Do you want play again?” I asked.

Bobby heaved a large sigh and stuck his hands into his pockets. For an instant I thought he was telling me he was done. Then he pulled his hands out of his pockets and gave me two cell phones. He said nothing and ran out onto the pitch. Moments later he scored his third goal.

That was a night for him. He disappeared at halftime for an interview with CNN International and didn’t return. After the game I got a text message from him apologizing for being in a bad mood.

There are no “heroes” in sports because there’s nothing on the line. There can be “Herculean efforts” (LeBron James leading the Cavs to the NBA Finals) or “Odyssean journeys” (AC Milan’s 06-07 campaign that started with the threat of relegation and ended with the UEFA Cup and the coronation of Kaká as the Player of the Moment) but not heroes.

I don’t know what to call Bobby’s efforts in this game because I’m still a novice in Greek mythology. I’m trying to think of a crestfallen warrior who has every reason not to leap into the fray but does and triumphs. There has to be one, ¿doesn’t there?

Perhaps the highest praise I have is admitting I’m stumped.

He stumped me.

Thank you, Bobby.


Half Time: ¡F! 3 — D&W 1
You might be inclined to think we were feeling good at halftime with a 2-goal lead. We did, but we didn’t feel great. For purposes of composition I have refrained from telling you about Pong. That shoe now drops.


Second Half: “Ladies and Gentlemen… ¡Pong!”
We have faced many excellent futbolers in our 3 seasons in the league. I’ve seen a bicycle kick. I’ve seen a guy kick so hard I feared for Elliot’s wellbeing. We’ve had guys wreck us and make our defenders look silly. And then there was Pong.

The word “fancy” applies to every really good person we’ve thus far faced. Not that they showboated, it’s more like they’d take one step back to take two steps forward. In any event they had to do stuff, something, to get around our defenders. Hence they used “moves.” Everyone we’d previously faced we could deal with through multiple defenders. Then they’d have to stop or pass or attempt a more circuitous route to the goal.

Not Pong.

For Pong it was more like we were all standing still and he was practicing simply running by us. The economy of his motion was breathtaking. His ball skills were like magic. I don’t mean because he did a bunch of fancy stuff. I mean he ran with the ball as though he didn’t have it, like the ball was stitched to his foot.

There’s a difference between feeling like someone is going to burn you and feeling like you don’t exist. Pong made you feel like you didn’t exist. Like playing a chess master—you know she isn’t playing you, she’s playing herself and you just happen to be sitting opposite her.

Stilts laughed out loud whenever he approached her because she knew he was going to go by her as though she wasn’t there. Not that he would make her look silly. He would make her look nonexistent.

I had always wondered what it would like to play against Ronaldinho. I envisioned him performing all kinds of amazing acrobatics and feats of ball artistry. I now realize how wrong I’d been. He wouldn’t have to do anything fancy because he could just run by us. To Ronaldinho we wouldn’t exist. To Pong we nearly didn’t.

Here’s the most amazing thing about him—He is the best natured person we’ve ever played against. There wasn’t a single arrogant or jerk moment with him.

Whenever I was marking him (that’s defending him when he didn’t have the ball) he’d smile and say, “Oh, man, come on, man. You’re shutting me down, man. I just want to run around and work out my knee. Come on, man, give me some space.”

He complimented ¡FUTURISMOS! on good plays big a small. “Nice pass, man. That was the right ball.”

This game was an experience unlike any other because of Pong. It was worth the draw. I’d have happily lost to experience it.

Having said that, I don’t want to face him next week.

Second Half: Goal by Goal
Pong scored first a couple minutes into the second half. He got the ball at midfield, ran by me, ran by his own teammate, then weaved between two ¡FUTURISMOS! and blasted a goal. Score 3–2.

D&W leveled with a goal that Pong didn’t score by was responsible for. A D&W guy approached with the ball and Pong running by his side. Pong peeled away. Two defenders (including me) followed Pong. Nobody followed with the guy with the ball so he had a clear path to the goal and scored. Literally two people defended a guy without the ball leaving the guy with the ball alone running toward the goal. The game was tied 3–3.

At this point I feared the game had slipped away from us. We had squandered our lead, lost Bobby, and faced an unrelenting one-man onslaught. Then TB struck.

TB beat a defender on the wing and found himself in open space 15-yards out to the left of the goal. There were a couple of D&W defenders in the box so TB sniped. His shot was aimed directly at the upper right corner of the goal. It hit the crossbar and TB in disgust turned back up field. So he missed the ball ricocheting down and to the left just inside the goal.

We had a lead again: 4–3.

Every team should have a ridiculous goal specialist. Ours is Big Pete. ¿You know what Dudley Do-Right from the Rocky & Bullwinkle show looks like? He’s the Canadian Mountie character with incredibly broad shoulders whose body tapers down so his feet are tiny. That’s what Big Pete looks like when he’s running with the ball. He has this massive upper body but when he runs with the ball he takes these tiny stutter steps. So Big Pete Do-Righted the ball to within feet of the goal and as the keeper reached out for the ball Big Pete sort of just poked it over him.

A D&W defender was somehow behind the keeper and ball popped up toward him about belly high. His first instinct was to hit it with his hand but he checked it in time but the moment was lost. He awkwardly attempted to knee the ball and it ended up fumbling over his leg and into the goal.

We had a regained our 2 goal cushion at 5–3.

Somewhere around here is when Stilts nearly scored her first goal. It was the same set up as the two she’d previously declined to score. She swooped in backside, the ball was passed to her and she had an empty net in front her. The first two times this happened she simply declined to stick her foot out and redirect the ball into the net. Now we know why.

This time she did stick her foot out and sent the ball over the net. Stilts was only about 5 feet away from the net so that’s not easy to do. She had to send the ball basically straight up.

Oh, Stilts. Always doing things her way whether they make any sense or not. You’ve really got to commend her for that.

Then Pong scored again. I don’t even remember how it worked but rest assured he did it alone and at tremendous pace.

With 5 minutes to play we were up 5–4 and we did the only thing we could to slow Pong down: Elliot marked him.

Elliot was the only ¡FUTURISMO! who could actually defend Pong. At one point Pong was running with the ball across the field and Elliot ran with him step-for-step. Pong tried to stop quickly and cut back but Elliot stopped too and Pong lost the ball out of bounds. Katie, the CSC official was standing next to me and said, “Wow, that guy is really fast.” She was referring to Elliot.

For a couple of minutes it appeared we had a solution for Pong that just might preserve our lead. Then came the play of the game.

Play of the Game: Pong’s Equalizer
D&W played Chelsea style futbol. That means they kept extra defenders back and their offense amounted to kicking the ball downfield and hoping their superstar striker would get it and do something amazing. Usually it meant the ball went flying somewhere a ¡FUTURISMO! could get to it first. Sometimes it didn’t.

We had a free kick from just outside the penalty box to the right side of the D&W field. Elliot ran up from the backfield where he had been marking Pong to take the kick. That still left two defenders to deal with Pong.

Elliot kicked the ball into the D&W box. A D&W person got it and simply booted the ball down the middle of the field hoping Pong would get to it. He did. Pong turned with the ball and raced up field. He had a ¡FUTURISMO! on his right and one in front of him.

When Pong reached our box both defenders were within arms reach. He didn’t stop. He didn’t do anything “fancy.” He effortlessly weaved between them and blasted a goal into the upper right hand corner.

That may not sound like a big deal. You have to try it.

Get a ball and two people. Run with the ball and a defender running next to you. Position the other defender directly in front you. Now, run full speed with the ball and try to run BETWEEN the two defenders when they’re within arm’s reach of each other.

The first thing you’ll notice is you have to measure your stride to plant your foot to make the cut. The next thing you’ll notice is measuring your steps and the ball at the same time so that not only is your plant foot in the correct place but so is the ball.

Once you’ve got that down make both defenders move to screw up your best laid plans. Now do it one fluid, unbroken motion at full speed with both defenders attempting to poke the ball away.

I don’t care who’s reading this: you can’t do it.

He did all that in something just longer than the blink of an eye. It was amazing, it tied the game and concluded the scoring for the match.


Epilogue
We had planned to go out for a drink after the game. We couldn’t because we were exhausted. By “we” I do mean every single one of us. Gasping, dripping, exhausted. Elliot had Collette drive because he couldn’t. Stilt’s was dry heaving during the game and at one point she was so pale I thought we were going to loose her.

There was one reason and one reason only we were wrecked as team: Pong. He all by himself wore us out because every time he had the ball you had to sprint because our only chance was to surround him with every available person.

Again, it was totally worth it. We can always go for a drink next week or the week after. We may never face Pong again (oh, please, Eternal Blue Sky, I’ve learned my lesson and don’t need to face him again).


Li’l Pete Award: I Guess Everyone
I think everyone had his or her moment in this game.

The Serbian somehow managed to fully flip a guy over like NFL films style. I don’t what she did but it was cool.

Hermione stoically filled Li’l Pete’s shoes as the center back defender. A thankless task she gamely endured.

Laddie basically saved our butts by showing up ready to play. Once he even dispossessed Pong of the ball after he’d woven his way past a couple of defenders thereby saving a certain goal.

Skywalker was her typical self mixing it up with any man, woman, or child who veered her way.

Stilts had the afore mentioned dry heaving.

Everyone had a moment where I thought “that’s the Li’l Pete spirit.” Even Li’l Pete herself who, although she couldn’t play, was on hand.

At one point late in the game I was running full speed after the ball deep in D&W territory near the sideline where the ¡FUTURISMOS! were standing. A D&W lady got the ball first and stuck her foot out to stop it. She also stopped both of my feet and I went flying, falling flat on my face. Even before my brain had recovered its sense of self I heard Li’l Pete yelling at me “¡GET UP! ¡GET UP!” I scrambled to my feet and the ball was already headed back down toward our end and I heard her yelling “¡GET BACK! ¡GET BACK!” and then in a quieter more sympathetic voice, “If you can.”

The Li’l Pete spirit abounded that night.


Faustian Moment: Pink Unicorn Ninja Jr.
One of the Chinese Ninja women of Dynamo brought her 3-year-old daughter to the game. She is now known as Pink Unicorn Ninja Jr. She had a little pink futbol. I was standing about 20-feet from her on the sideline before our game and she kicked her ball to me and then said “I’m open, I’m open, I’m open.”

I kicked it back.

She kicked it back and said “I’m open, I’m open, I’m open.”

I kicked it back.

She then instructed me to set my feet shoulder length apart so she could shoot under my legs. Whenever she a had a near miss she would gallop around on her hands and feet like a enthusiastic monkey. When she “scored” we would both throw ourselves on the ground and scream.

This is literally a Faustian Moment. Dr. Faust traded for what he saw in children at play. Here it is: