Recap: A sparser showing today, two teams with about three subs each. Teams were generally equal in talent, although the opposing side had two college-aged guys that really helped carry their team.

Health Report: Fine. My ankle is sore from more from the brace I’m wearing, and man are my muscles sore but no kicks, knocks, or bruises.

Performance: Okay. The first two or three shifts were diabolical but I gradually got into the groove and by the end I was playing pretty well. I scored twice with my left foot and that doesn’t happen often, and I cheekily lobbed the goalkeeper from about eight feet out. That got quite a few laughs.

Rating: — The day averaged out to three stars—two to begin with and four towards the end. Really, I was pretty awful for the first twenty minutes or so and it didn’t help that I kept get on the same shift with a mouthy guy who is quite good but is very temperamental and stops running when he doesn’t get the ball where he wants it, when he wants it, and another guy who is a classic pickup stereotype—the guy whose friends are incredibly good and he’s average at best, but likes to think he’s just as good as they are.

He liked to shoot. A lot. From distance. From impossible angles. Through crowds. Through brick walls. And he seemed to be under the impression that if he could hit the ball hard enough that it somehow made up for the fact that it was generally off target. And if you’re me and you’ve just run thirty yards to join in the attack, I certainly don’t want to be told that I should make a better run to pull defenders away so this guy can (you guessed it) get a clearer shot. Nope, generally not a way to endear yourself to me.

Still, the footie makes me very happy. Even if I will be condemned to wheelchair by the time I’m forty.