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Titans of CASA Soccer Battle The Heat And Each Other
The Sombras snatch victory from the expectaions of
J. Gits FC in the CASA over-50 league championship
played in searing heat and energy draining humidity
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As the sun cast its first rays of light across the hallowed fields of the Robious Middle School Soccer Complex to christen the beginning of a new day, there was a scent of something special in the air that permeated the landscape upon which a monumental event was about to unfold. After a grueling season of hard-fought soccer matches, two teams emerged from the foray to compete in a final showdown where the victor would claim the coveted crown of soccer champions of the CASA League of the Spring 2008 Season.
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Even before the morning dew began to melt atop the sparse blades of grass that still dotted the soccer pitch, which would soon explode with a thunderous pounding of ancient feet in pursuit of ball dominance, the heat of scorching rays from the sun began to create a cauldron of fire and humidity in the air that would blanket the field. This day would be a test of character, stamina, and passion for the game of soccer among the brave souls who would venture out in the blistering brightness to do battle for the title of champion of this 2008 season.
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One by one these titans of the pitch began to assemble on the open field with trepidation to prepare to do battle with determined opponents in uncertain conditions that tested even the mettle of the few normally sanguine soccer fans who left behind their air conditioned comfort to witness this prodigious event. Going through their warm-up routines, the soccer ball warriors worked to remove the sluggish weight of humid air that made running akin to a large, heavy bird trying to take flight. Every movement robbed the players of the energy that they would need to endure the impending combat.
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Having just filled my car with ridiculously high-priced gasoline, I set out to record the happenings of this fateful day with camera in hand. I eased my Jeep into the school of cars on Midlothian Tpk. that flowed like a river of salmon swimming upstream, some darting to and fro, in pursuit of the fish sex that awaits them at the end of their journey, or whatever they do when they get there. Steering into the parking lot, comfortably immune to the temperatures outside, my eyes beheld the site of bright colored shirts and dresses on the many fans and players who bustled about the still-empty fields. One could feel the thick air of excitement and enthusiasm and I anxiously spun my Jeep into an unexpectedly close to the field parking spot. Then I stepped outside.
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Like a blast from a furnace, I was reminded of the peppery temperatures that drain the body and senses as I walked towards the field, my eyes searching for scant amounts of shade. Nestling myself among fellow players who were here only to watch and not to play because we blew it, I settled for about a square inch of shade to plop down, but I was only an arm's reach from the cooler and a few steps from the grill. We were ready for the big game.
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Within moments, the shrill of the referee's whistle shattered the misty air to signal the beginning of the match and the anticipation of everyone there was finally realized. The Sombras and J. Gits FC faced-off on a pitch that felt like a hot tin roof, but you would never have known that. Both teams charged forth with the vigor of youth, oblivious to soaring temperatures and playing with reckless abandon to penetrate the opponents' defense and to try and put the first ball into "the back of the old onion bag". Both teams moved the ball back and forth across the field with precision plays and surprising energy while the ball remained outside the net for most of the first half.
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But, as time marched on, the sting of the devil's fiery breath on the necks of these goal-smashing pitch participants began to take it's toll. Each ticking minute added another weight onto the combatants' shoulders. Each step became shorter and sprints turned into lollygags until the first goal flew into the net. Advancing with the ball through quick passes, Sombras broke the ice and put the first digit on the scoreboard.
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And so it went. One goal, then another and another. Players were slowed by the burdening fatigue that was becoming apparent as the game slowed in pace. By the time the referee blew his familiar game-ending tune and the sweat flowed like Niagra Falls from the foreheads of the mature masters of soccer, five goals had been scored - all by the Sombras. J. Gits FC played hard like there was no tomorrow, but, in the end, lady fate waved her hand across the pitch and determined the game's outcome.
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Walking off the pitch, some with heads held high and others with heads hanging heavy like ripe fruit from a tree, these over-fifty stout supermen of soccer still had the strength to tip a cold one and laugh in the face of Mother Nature's wrath after this momentous clash had reached its conclusion. The ferocity on the pitch was thereby supplanted by the comraderie around the cooler. All in all, a great performance by the players and referees.
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As I pointed my jeep back towards home and let the frosty air dry the sweat on my brow, I glanced at the temperature gauge and noticed it had reached 100 deg. F. Some might say that only fools would be out on a frying pan pitch on a day like this. Some would say that only soccer players can muster the grit to play the world's sport in any weather. I'm with the latter group.
Till Next Time,
Bernie Rosellen
Soccer From The Pitch
804-363-3449
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