Yeah, Soccer!

I love playing soccer! Now, I have no illusions about my actual ball handling skills (they are not spectacular), but I think I can hold my own on defense. I played a ton of soccer in high school. I was on a club team for fall and summer outdoor, winter indoors and then spring was the high school season. Our club team had some really great players, but I think that our coach taught us to play a little rough. You know, throw a hip or shoulder and then be the one to fall and get the call for your team. He never actually said to do these things, but most of the girls I played with ended up being physical players.

Since high school I played a bunch of co-ed intermurals in college and have been on a few co-ed adult rec teams and those are a bunch of fun. Sometimes a little limited on how many touches on ball you get, but a great work-out nonetheless. But, this fall my cousins got the itch to play and they set up a women's indoor team and I am having SO MUCH FUN! Why is it that I get such a rush out of being hip checked into the walls, and in the process taking out a girl and then watching as she gets a penalty for the play? What does this mean? On the way home from games we replay every rough play of the game and almost brag about what is going to be sore the next day and who is going to have the biggest bruises. Plus, It is almost a little bit of glory to have black and blue marks, on their way to turning greenish-yellow, left over from the week before.

All this conversation interspersed with talk of the cute jacket that we saw at Banana Republic, who is getting their hair cut, or when a new episode of Lost is finally going to be aired. After all, we are still a little bit girly!