And that’s what its all about

If I were a fly in the sky I might look down from on high
and think that soccer was all about a ball.
For they chase that sphere
over here, over there
Seems so important even though its so small

If I were a bird up above watching from a power pole
I’d say soccer was about scoring goals.
For when the ball they try and get
goes into the net, they cheer -
realised fears and hopes.

If you were a spectator at our match
you’d be excused if you’re confused
and thought our games are all about food.
For our half-time feasts are enough, to say the least,
to fuel more than a few athletes.

But you know Mr Fly,
a ball is just a ball. Full of air and nothing more.
Its not the aim of our game

And, Dear Bird,
Goals in soccer (and indeed in life)
aren’t always measured by posts painted white.

But a feast – oh yes a feast
is close to what soccer means
Though it’s not because we just like to eat.

As we huddle around oranges and lollies
(and sandwiches/strawberries/muesli/baking/carrot sticks/salami...)
we rest, we’re fuelled
we hear wisdom, gain strength
to continue.

So soccer is a game
but for us its much more.
In many ways its a feast
for our souls 

Fig 1: One of the more modest half-time spreads of the Maribyrnong Swifts State 4 team

Learning to Lose

27 June 2018

We lost our soccer match on Sunday. Which, unfortunately for us, is a familiar outcome (and hey, me being on team doesn't exactly help the situation). But this was a match we were meant to, had to, could have and nearly did win... except we didn't.

I know, winning isn't everything. Just being out on the field with my soccer buddies each Sunday is enough for me. I would have left long ago if it wasn't. But there's a certain amount of post-match frustration that needs to be processed every now and then.

My fuming was productive. I realised this: Growing up, I never really 'lost' anything*. No, I didn't have a sheltered childhood. A comfortable, competitive one, yes. But all my individual pursuits (blogged about here) didn't really lend themselves to 'losing'. There was definitely winning. In gymnastics they would award medals to third place. In chamber music contests there was a regional winner and the highly commended. At  junior pony club they'd award '6th ='s  until everyone in the class got a ribbon (I saw through that... but my ribbons still hang on my wall). And though at times coming second felt equal to coming last, we didn't really go around saying 'we lost'.

Then I sign up for soccer. And every weekend for the whole season, we're asked 'Did you win?'. (Those who know us better have toned it down to 'How did you go'?). Sports - like life - can be cruel. It doesn't matter if you were down 7-0 at half time or conceded 1-0 in the 89th minute. A loss is a loss.

Being rather experienced, then, I feel I can comment. Not to console myself, but to not let opportunity go to waste. You see, its easy to celebrate a win. But it takes a certain kind of person(s) to lose well. Victory may evade but there is much more to be gained:  humility, a fighting spirit, a tighter team, amongst others.

I don't know. I'm not a pro player (missed that boat) so can't speak for top level competition. But in our league at least, I feel its not so much about the result but

          Winning well
                 and
                    Learning to lose.

*Well, that's untrue. I lost lots of things: my surgeon teddy bear (left him at the fish and chip shop), my mum in the department store (she was too short to be seen above the clothing racks), my pack whilst travelling in Bolivia (read about the robbery here). My colleagues would tell you I some/oftentimes lose my train of thought, my mind or perhaps I've lost my marbles. 

Soccer for the soul

13 Nov 2016

Like any good Chinese kid, I had a childhood full of individual pursuits. Violin, piano, swimming, gymnastics, badminton, maths competitions, horse-riding* even.

Now don't get me wrong, I had a great upbringing. And all of these activities have 'helped shape me into the (stubborn, driven, over-committed) person I am today'.

But you know, the one problem with individual pursuits is that, when things go wrong there's kinda no-one to blame. I mean, I've tried to blame my accompanist, my horse, my sister in the audience (she smiled at me, that was distracting) - but it doesn't really work. Deep down you know it was your fault and nothing - and no one - can offer consolation. So you step up the training, schedule more rehearsals and beat your self esteem until an opportunity for redemption.

Then this year, I joined a soccer team. 

I noticed something strange: my teammates actually stuff up too. But when they do - and this is more surprising - I'm quick to forgive ("Unlucky!" "Play on"). 
And then I noticed something else: that in being quick to forgive others, I slowly learnt to forgive myself. 
How... liberating.

A season of soccer taught me what a childhood of music lessons never did. It was:

   Piano to perfection
         Soccer for the soul

*(yes pretty un-asian nevertheless individualistic)