I underestimated the amount of food I’d require today so at one point I found myself hungry. I proceeded to make my way to the pub around the corner (literally) to get some pizza. As is often the case in these establishments, they were showing football on the television.

As I waited for my order to arrive, this display brought back some memories from when I used to play football myself. This might come as a surprise to people, including me, who are aware of my lack of interest in football. It was one of those things that your parents dragged you into (literally). I have no bad memories of my experience in the field, just a certain feeling of confusion. I never really knew the rules that well, or who against we were playing. I don’t even remember why I quit playing. I don’t remember the coaches or anything they ever said so I guess I sort of slipped through the fingers. A few distinct pieces of memory are stuck in my mind.

I remember when I started, we were given proper jersies with our numbers and teamname printed on them. At some point they were replaced and we were given rather thin shirts instead. I remember one late-summer day, riding my bike home, in the pouring rain, with that thin shirt cold against my skin. At the beginning of one game, I started on the bench and was substituted to the field at some point. As I ran to the field, I passed my substitutee and we promptly exchanged mid-fives. I remember this because it sort of hit to me after that thats what you’re supposed to do that in that situation and the other person responded correctly!

In one game I remember getting some kind of huge inspiration and ran after the ball like crazy! At some point I tripped somewhere and was quite disappointed when nothing came out of it. I was hurt! We never practiced any tricks, just played. That was a slight disappointment.

Even with premium football experience like this, it took me some 20+ years to understand what an off-side is.