I've never lost like that before

I have realized that teaching brings out the manic depressive in all of us. Especially in me. Yesterday treated me to an especially imbalanced emotional experience. After I had heard the news that K- dropped out, I admit I basically ghosted through the rest of the day. I didn't put nearly the energy I should have into my classes, and since I didn't have any lesson plans, it wasn't pretty, to say the least. School, in a nutshell, was terrible. I was ready to go home and sleep, but I could not, because we were scheduled to host the Catholic school from across town at 7.

I was hoping the game would get rained out and that was a distinct possibility. The thunderhead that I had watched building up since four finally broke on us right before the girls' game. Everyone scattered, but as I was trying to navigate the parking lot in the rain, trying to find the refs, I realized I really wanted to play this game. The weather, in my opinion, could not have been better, because there is nothing more fun than mucking around a soccer pitch against your biggest rivals. Besides, they are quite a bit more skilled than us, and a little rain makes skill take a back seat to motivation, which we have in abundance.

By the time we kicked off, the storm had mostly rained itself out. We lost our first three games by a combined score of 22-0, so I knew that something had to give. I pulled my most skilled player back from central mid to sweeper, sent my old sweeper up from, and put a pair of hustling players on the wings to harry and harrass the opponents and and generally make a nuisance of themselves. It worked to a T. My wingers scrapped like their lives depended on it, my sweeper was composed and assured, and my strikers, well, they still never looked like conjuring up much of anything, but they were more than willing to run. And C -, my goalkeeper, who gave up last game after he shipped 7 of the 9 we conceded, was fantastic. I guess our trip to Frosty's after that debacle for floats and burgers was a success, because he bounced back impressively.

It could have all gone wrong as early as the third minute, when I found myself out on the field, shouting as much as my hoarseness allowed. C- had come out to make a save and, once he had the ball, been caught by an opposing forward in the jaw. The ball got knocked loose in the process, and rolled into the back of the net. When my keeper didn't get up, I was on the field, and was amazed to hear the referree tell me that the goal stood. Luckily for both of us, his linesman had run out to the pitch to indicate the foul, and we were spared the kind of early blow that we have suffered in every game to date.

In fact, we went twelve full minutes from the kickoff without conceding, which is certainly a record for us this year. Not only did we not concede, but we managed to make passes and runs and get into dangerous positions in the front third. We still didn't look like much of a threat to put the ball in the back of the net, but we were steamrolling them in midfield.

Inevitably, we gave up a goal of the absolute lowest quality. On a goal kick, my keeper sent the ball straight to an opponent, who took two touches and then drilled it back past him. Less then ten minutes later they scored a carbon copy of that goal, and sandwitched between them, they scored a header off a corner kick. Three - nil. They would score two more goals before the half was out, one decent, and one keeper error, but we had a strong spell of pressure before the whistle, and hustled into the locker room feeling pretty good about ourselves.

I actually gave a good halftime talk. No stopping, no searching for words. No "Ok?... Ok?..." The other team was scared of us, and we knew it. We smelt blood, and we were ready to go for it.

Back out of the field, the rain had picked up again. We looked determined and full of energy, and we were defending bravely and getting upfield whenever we could. Then, from the right flank, they sent in a cross. My keeper punched clear (actually, it was more of a slap - something to work on), and then leaped up to stop the next shot, making a brilliant double save, before the ball popped up and my center back contrived to catch it with both hands. He was, of course, horrified, as we all were, but at five-nothing, it wasn't going to change the game, until the PK went off the crossbar. That gave us a lot of confidence, and we kept pushing forward. We created one or two chances. Their keeper touched the ball for something other than a goal-kick. They did manage to slip another one by us somehow, but it didn't deflate us, and we kept on pushing. Five minutes from time, there was a scuffle on the left of their 18, and I saw a lofted shot heading towards the goal -somehow it crossed the line, and there was instant chaos. I heard five guesses as to the goalscorer, until it came out that K- H- had somehow gotten a boot on it. K- H-, who I had reprimanded the day before for still kicking with his toe. K- H-, who I had forgotten was on the field and almost surely would have pulled had I remembered. Sometimes, things just work out.

After our 9-0 drubbing on Tuesday, C-had said to me "You don't like losing, do you Co' "

"No," I replied. "I don't. I never have lost like this before."

But I don't mind loosing like we lost last night. I've never lost like that before.