Two teams of fourteen-year-old lads are playing in an obscure lower division of a local league. One of the teams lost by ten goals last week, but it's not stopped them turning out again.
Even at this young age, many are suffering from the sacrifices they've made. Some have known broken bones, others just the bruises and aches that go with the territory. All will have felt the frost in their feet and fingers from playing in a January blizzard, or the strains of an all-day tournament under a July sun.
At this age the onset of puberty has played havoc with the idea of an average height. Some are already hulking six-footers; others are more of the beanpole variety while yet others are a full or more shorter. Yet those with littler legs are often quicker off the mark, and aggression can make up for the lack of inches.
And team spirit can make up for a bit lack of ability. A team that goes one down can pick itself up and fight.
But the team that blames the goalie, where the backs scream at the midfield, where the prima-donna complains at his lack of service - that's the team that is lost already. And the team where the all-star super-hero is also the captain - leading the line, taking the corners, the free kicks, dragging himself out of position to do it all - that's a recipe for exhaustion and injury and heartbreak. But a team is built around knowing that mates don't let each other down.
It's not just a Sunday game. They don't just turn out one day a week and perform. The team that does well on Sunday is the one where everyone turned out and worked hard mid-week, or Saturday morning when the kids that aren't so good were being heroes on Call of Duty. And the lads that excel were up the gym mid-week, or pounding the streets. And if you want the week-in, week-out joy of being the best you can be, you need to stay clear of the booze and fags that are already tempting at this age.
So it's costly. It's a battle. It hurts. You have to drag yourself out of bed on a weekend morning. But the challenge, the shared experience, the common hopes, the shared vision - they're what make it worthwhile. And a team that thinks like that, is a successful team. Win, or lose.
Even at this young age, many are suffering from the sacrifices they've made. Some have known broken bones, others just the bruises and aches that go with the territory. All will have felt the frost in their feet and fingers from playing in a January blizzard, or the strains of an all-day tournament under a July sun.
At this age the onset of puberty has played havoc with the idea of an average height. Some are already hulking six-footers; others are more of the beanpole variety while yet others are a full or more shorter. Yet those with littler legs are often quicker off the mark, and aggression can make up for the lack of inches.
And team spirit can make up for a bit lack of ability. A team that goes one down can pick itself up and fight.
But the team that blames the goalie, where the backs scream at the midfield, where the prima-donna complains at his lack of service - that's the team that is lost already. And the team where the all-star super-hero is also the captain - leading the line, taking the corners, the free kicks, dragging himself out of position to do it all - that's a recipe for exhaustion and injury and heartbreak. But a team is built around knowing that mates don't let each other down.
It's not just a Sunday game. They don't just turn out one day a week and perform. The team that does well on Sunday is the one where everyone turned out and worked hard mid-week, or Saturday morning when the kids that aren't so good were being heroes on Call of Duty. And the lads that excel were up the gym mid-week, or pounding the streets. And if you want the week-in, week-out joy of being the best you can be, you need to stay clear of the booze and fags that are already tempting at this age.
So it's costly. It's a battle. It hurts. You have to drag yourself out of bed on a weekend morning. But the challenge, the shared experience, the common hopes, the shared vision - they're what make it worthwhile. And a team that thinks like that, is a successful team. Win, or lose.
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