I finally broke into the second-side or "travel squad" for the tournament this past weekend. I'm beyond glad it panned out that way, despite the fact that I didn't feel particularly proud of my performance the last few practices. I guess my tournament stats from Denver helped balance that account. The tournament this week was in Kansas City and from the get-go we played 2 of the top 3 teams in the nation, then followed up with beating a top 20 team just to pop back into a semi-final against arguably the third of the top three teams. Needless to say it was not the most successful of records, but we learned a lot that day and got much better. I also grew much closer to my teammates- which was probably the one thing that redeemed the weekend the most.
It was also nice to finally have some alone time.
The week leading up to the tournament in a weird turn of events led to me having two roommates. Two of my teammates needed a place to stay and seemed to have surfed every couch possible, so I put myself next on the list. Overall it was a nice experience and we hung out plenty. They're really cool guys. But again, I was excited to be alone as well.
I had the most quintessential 4th of July imaginable. We still had practice that morning at 10am, which was absolutely brutal by the way, and afterward plans for the day seemed to fall perfectly into place. Right after practice the team trainer performed "acupuncture"on my leg that involved sticking a needle two inches deep into my skin, and then jilting it up and around like scrambling eggs. She did this in 5 spots on my left calf and 3 spots on my glute. This was definitely one of those procedures where if squeamish people tried to watch what was happening to them, they'd invariably faint. It sucked to say the least, though this weird voodoo method did help big time in the end.
I hopped into the car with my "roommates" and popped in at another teammate's place to hang for a while. They were of course all smoking languidly in creaky chairs on the upstairs patio while others pregamed inside, but I felt pretty comfortable there. It's like all of a sudden I wasn't just a face at practice to these people, I was a full-blown person with a story and things to say. Each of the bedrooms were easy to link tho their owners in almost cartoon-like fashion.
About an hour later, we drove to meet up with the aforementioned trainer because apparently she's like the cool aunt around the team. For a few hours, in what felt more like Austin Texas than Denver Colorado, we had some nice banter over exotic drinks and authentic Mexican cuisine. Each of the plates were colorful Pollock pieces, steaming upon delivery. I ate far more than I should have, but it worked for the best.
From there we shuffled about a mile downtown to a park where the team was having their annual game of Sloshball- rules as follows:
1. One must at all times have a drink in their hand.
2. There are baseball plates that one must run.
3. The game is very similar to kickball in most other respects except that second base can have as many people as people want, and to score a run properly, one must slide down the slip-and-slide.
4. Second base has a keg on it, and upon reaching it, one must not only finish their current drink but also refill it before being allowed to progress onward to third and home base.
Fun ensued. A woman who is in with the guys and seems to run the ship now and then placed me on a team. Invested completely in the game from that point on, guys and gals came and went while others smoked under the shade of low-branch trees or tossed disks across the flat field. I didn't drink enough to really feel any of it, but I had good ol time talking to people I probably wouldn't see again.
I had spent the night before with my childhood friend and some of his mixed crew sitting atop a mountain and looking at the city lights boring holes into black. The wind strung hairs every which way while we scattered ourselves amongst the rock crevices and laughed. We had made plans to maybe meet again the next day, but fast forward to me driving home after some sloshball and I still couldn't get into contact with him. My roommates offered to have me tag along to a family barbecue, so I did. Soon as I stepped out of the car I was surrounded by 6'+ Samoan and Polynesian men with these beautiful tribal tattoos adorning the canvas of their bodies. The women were no different outside of height. I shook two guys hands and before I knew it was borderline pushed into the kitchen with a plate in one hand and a beer in the other.
Man I love Islanders.
Sitting nearby waiting for my homies to finish their bowl while the kids were away, firecrackers clapping in between giddy screams, I finally received word from my childhood bud and darted off. Their college town of maybe a few thousand became a bustling hive of bodies literally overnight- like a game day in the SEC. Cars lined every neighborhood road and it took me a solid 20 minutes to find parking. He and a good portion of both men's and women's soccer teams were sitting on a long wooden table, stuffing down greasy pieces of a few large pepperoni pizzas and washing it down via stouts and sours. A few of them were blissfully drunk while plenty others were trying to get on their level, so it made for an exciting time. On my end we played cards and talked crap as friends do, running for the hills when we heard the first firework explode overhead. Instantly the bar patio went vacant and with car full of drunken passengers, we gunned it for the SAE frat house where we sat on the roof, "ooo-ing" and "aw-ing" at the lights while passing around a bottle of Tennessee whiskey. It was an invaluable experience sitting there alongside my friend like old times, staring up at the fireworks and talking about our futures like the big mysteries that they will always be. The night closed with an expensive trip to Taco Bell and lots of Guitar Hero. Eventually everybody fell off one by one- the girls passing out on the futon behind us and the guys on the floor around them- so my bud and I decided to follow suit. I just remember sloughing up the stairs from the cool basement and thinking to myself
"Wow, what a life I lead".
God is so good to me,
Life is good,
And I've been great
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