Before I talk about my attempt at football last night, there's this.
Excuse me while I have a good early morning laugh. Again. I don't know about anyone else, but when I first saw the promos for the London logo, my reaction was, "what the fuck is that supposed to be?"
"...The new logo for the event, which is a jagged emblem based on the date 2012, was unveiled on Monday..." I thought it read: ZOO, followed by an R below it. Good one, guys.
If you don't - Keep It Simple, Stupid - the masses may react in fits of violent seizures. Admittedly, the poms can be hyper-sensitive about these things, but for once, I'm in full support of the nannies.
Anywho, so I was sitting on the couch last night - being lazy - when I got an sms from Mills's colleague asking if I wanted to join for a game of friendly football. I jumped at the chance, even though the last time I attempted the sport, it was called soccer and I was playing in a dustpit outside my Std 4 home room.
Being work colleagues there wide band of skills... ranging from completely shit to absolute show off. I was somewhere in the middle. The Argentinian (Argentine?) was the biggest show off. He reminded me of the guy who's not good enough to play with the big boys, so he plays with the little boys and doesn't pass the ball... otherwise he takes to being a self-important ref.
Short man. Chest, knees and butt out as he ran, stubby arms pumping frantically.... Think about it - it's a very unique running style. He would get the ball and dance over it a few times without moving forward, backward or sidesways. If someone shit was marking him, he'd get past. If the Italian was marking him, he'd get tackled. Every time he started running, I wanted to trip him. And he was on my team.
My game was actually not too bad, although it was more about fitness and reflexes than any form of talent. If the ball came at me, I put my feet in the way and tried to send it in another direction. Fortunately, I play hockey and get my feet in the way often. I also tried to catch the ball once. That was bad, and not so subtle. Oops.
My biggest embarrassment was squealing and ducking every time the ball came past me at shoulder height. Two thumbs way up for behaving like a pre-pubescent girl. A proud moment in the women's recognition struggle... good thing I wasn't around for the suffragette movement.