We got thoroughly thrashed in every aspect of the game. It was the worst lose I have been a part of since being in college. Humiliating.
I came around the cage right handed. The time before when I dodged from behind, I tried to shoot as soon as I got to the goal line and I shot to the outside of the goal. This is called being a p_ _ _ _. Told myself I was going to take the step of champions the next time around, and I did. I remember carrying the ball behind, making a move to my right, going towards the goal and then…
I honestly had not been hit like that since David Kemnuts (spelling) from Jordan High School slid cross crease my junior year. Only time I have ever been knocked out of a game. Funny thing is, I heard this guy won “The Price is Right” or something last year, and basically humped Bob Barker in his Plinko excitement. Coach Kirkley, being the exceptionally benevolent man that he is, asked me if I was ok, and then told me I probably deserved it. He, as usual, was probably right. I had been selfish and continually gone on a defender who continually tied me up and forced me into turn-overs. I remember his name but I am not going to say it on here cause like I say, I’m still a playa and I am not going down like that. Still, he had me tied-up for the umpteenth time when I went to the goal in this instance, and I paid the price. I never even saw it coming. Next thing I knew my mom was standing over me with the trainer and the coaches, looking at me like I had about 9 eyes. Couldn’t chew anything too solid for about a week.
This time it was my teammates standing over me congratulating me. I said, “Did I score?” as I attempted once, twice, three times to get up. Everything looked like I had been staring at the sun too long. Luckily, I had been inebriated before so I knew how to handle myself in such situations so as to not appear entirely incoherent. I jogged, with a friendly hand to my back, to our teams sideline, passed through the mass of congratualtory teammates to the bench, promptly sat my punch drunk-ass down, and preceded to speak with the high qualified athletic trainer.
Trainer Joe: Do you know what day it is Cory?
Cory (me):Yup
Trainer Joe: And which state you are in?
Cory: uh huh
Trainer Joe: Hey coach! He’s good to go
Obviously I must have been fit to play from then on. I played the rest of the miserable game in a cloud, making me of little or no use to the team, though as you probably have deciphered from my writing the clouds is a pretty typical place for me most of the time anyways… The tailgate food was the best of the year, its just too bad I couldnt chew anything denser than cheesecake. Still, I scored because I decided to turn the corner, and thats what matters. It made the game 6-5, and it looked as if we had figuratively “turned-the-corner” as a team. Batta-bing Batta-boom, they score 11 straight.
Hear that again….
ELEVEN STRAIGHT!
We gave up 8 goals or less total in 80% of our games this year. ELEVEN STRAIGHT.
Soooo, back to getting our collective ass whooped..
The beautiful thing about sports is the way the ball bounces your way when you hustle. It is seriously like magic. Add a bit of enthusiasm and will, and all of a sudden things start to shift in your direction more often then night. Rutgers epitomized this against us. I have never seen more “lucky” bounces or 50-50 situations continually go to one side. It was evidence of our lack of focused energy and their heightened level that the ball just went their way, and we did nothing to stop it. Not to mention, it got to the point they were just throwing the ball at the goal and it was going in. Rule number one of being a teammate is you never ever question your defense (if for no other reason than that in practice your forearms begin to look like candy to the fiery tongues of their poke-checks as soon as you criticize them), with a subsidiary of that rule being never to blame your goalie. I am not blaming him, simply stating that he had a tough game and we did nothing to bring him out of it. Energy and momentum in a game are as contagious as pink-eye, and we didn’t spread the germ to each other. It was a wash-out.
Losing makes you question everything about yourself, from the way you eat to the way you shoot to the way you talk to people. To me losing is like a continuous Monday morning, where you just feel over-whelmed and incompetent and mad at people for asking you if they can borrow your stapler (wink wink haha). You simply feel like there is no way things are going to be righted again. And then you grow up.
You stare at the lose in the face and correct the mistakes and learn from it and practice harder and prepare better and concentrate fuller and man up. Everyone loses. I consider myself fortunate to have won as much as I have in my life, and I have lost a lot a lot a lot. When I was 11 years old I had to High Jump at a track meet in the middle of Hurricane Bertha at like 8 at night. The wind was literally blowing the bar off without even touching it, and we were all freezing. I had lost a total of 2 times in this event in 3 years, and both of those loses were at the AAU National Championships. I came in 4th this time, and did not qualify to compete in the next meet in New Orleans, where the nationals were being held that year. I wept, not cried, wept, in the van ride home.
What I did in that event later in my history is for those who want to know to ask about, but needless to say, losing is how you deal. I believe failure is the greatest cause for success in this world. Still doesn’t mean I like it, but it can be useful. So how we deal with this lose is up to us, but my team is made of the right “ish,” and our response will be righteous. This was a big lose, but not one that destroys our play-off hopes. We fight forward of our own accord and that means its up to us, and honestly, that is really the way it should be. Thank God for another game.
Which just happens to be Georgetown, and I got too much to say about those fake bull-dogs for right now.
I am putting this following statement out there so I will be held accountable in my own words to fulfill it. My brother is demanding that I write about my experiences in the recruiting camps after my junior year of high school. He says that people may want to read about that, which sounds like horse manure to me, but he is the eldest so I will do as he says. So, later this week expect a post about Top 205 and the U-19 try-outs. Happy Easter.
“You look at the lose in the face and chose a path and walk it.”
