the netherlands, part 4: more sports (or: danny's scrappy as all hell)

My last night in Amsterdam, after having Indonesian for dinner and seeing that Ewan McGregor movie whose name I can never remember, I played soccer for the first time in, err, at least three years. Let's just say I had concerns about how much I would suck.

We played in a cage (think a playground basketball court, except for soccer). 3-on-3, games to 2, with the winners staying on (good to see some things are standard everywhere). In addition to my intense fear of sucking, I was also less than thrilled with the prospect of dragging down whichever team I ended up on. Fortunately, I was coupled with the two guys I knew best: Jonathan and Thijs. Both are well over 6' and, well, good at voetball.

The first half-hour or so was pretty straightforward. A team would win a game or two, then get tired and get taken out. I made some mistakes (hi, I can play defense. Right), but I also had a few good moments. Oh, and I was having a ball. Running around at 1:00 in the morning'll do that.

After a while, I was exhausted. I'm out of shape, you see, so I declared myself done for the night. My team took a seat, and I took off my shirt to try to cool off for a bit. The next game took a bit longer than average, so I'd actually started to recuperate a bit. Thijs and Jonathan got up, ready to play, and cast hopeful eyes in my direction.

It didn't take much to convince me to play another. I mean, come on, when would be the next time I could play soccer in Europe? "One more... 'til we lose."

We then proceeded to win at least twelve straight games. It could have been a bunch more. It's easy to lose track after a certain point. Looking back, I don't know how it happened. A bunch of luck along the way (opposing shots hitting the crossbar, fortuitous bounces for us) helped, but you don't win twelve straight on pure luck. My little theory is that the three of us suddenly gelled and played to each other's strengths. Jonathan was steady as all hell. Thijs had the mad athleticism and voetball skills. Me? Not so much athletic ability in this body. Nor knowledge of strategy. So I did what I could do: get scrappy. Get into the corners. Fight for the ball. Challenge your opponent, taking the risk of getting burned, but keeping the pressure up. Somehow it worked.

Now that I think about it, those twelve games might just be the most impressive athletic accomplishment I've ever been a direct part of. Not saying much, admittedly, but still, rather cool.