Josie Wenner ’27, one of my many underlings on the paper, recently invited me to play intramural soccer with her electrifying team, “the Lightning,” made up of people from the Noyes house team and other sources. I was enthused: Last year, I spent a series of Wednesdays playing intramural basketball, and that tragically bad team became a brief obsession. Josie told me that her team lost 8-0 on a game that ended at halftime, so luckily, I was in similar company.
I suited up in sneakers and shorts and headed over. Of course, the game had already started when I got there at 7:02 p.m. (god forbid an intramural soccer game not start on time). We were already down one-zip, but as I stepped onto the pitch, I was ready to turn things around.
I immediately saw a familiar face on the field: My former EiC Jacques was refereeing the game. Ref Jacques looked at me quizzically.
“Did you sign a waiver?”
“No.”
“Nick, we’ve already had twenty sprained ankles today! ”
“Eh. I’ll do it at halftime.”
That seemed to pacify Jacques as he could see I was quite durable. Soon we were down 2-0, but THEN we pulled a surprise goal on a turnover. It was electric. Keeping the momentum going, I got a shot-on-goal. Moments later I got the ball back, pushed the ball past the goalie and made a GOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL in the NETTTTTTTTTTTTTT. The game was tied! The other team, made up completely of vaguely athletic Vassar men, was shocked. In the final few minutes, we let in two more goals though, so the comeback would have to continue during the second half.
During halftime, I signed away my rights to Jacques. I suddenly felt a little off during halftime and it wasn’t just the whole “can’t sue Vassar” thing. I was sorely lacking in exercise this semester and the Olive Garden leftovers I ate early that day were turning in my stomach, but then Ref Jacques told me not to throw up, so I didn’t.
Also during halftime, Olivia Blank ’27, the Misc’s assistant games editor, who is currently theorizing how to turn Rummikub into a paper game, arrived. We were all feeling a bit down. The ever-optimistic Blank yelled, “Unleash your inner lightning!” and suddenly we all perked up. It was a great speech that really motivated us to play better but then we were quickly down 7-2, but AFTER THAT we scored a goal and started getting some opportunities. On one play, where I had the ball by the net, Ref Jacques yelled at me, “Shoot!” I missed, but suddenly, I realized that maybe Ref Jacques was in my corner. If he could edit the bad parts out of my Misc screeds, maybe he could edit the bad parts out of my soccer playing as well. Minutes later, we got another opportunity down low where a teammate was rushing the net. Jacques was yelling at me to go toward the middle in front of the net, and so I did. We scored. I looked back at Coach/Ref Jacques and he said, “That was great! You made the goalie move!” I didn’t score that goal, but in many ways, I clearly did.
Things were looking up, but it was 8-5 and we were running out of time: There were only two minutes left. So, Josie famously said, “There’s still two minutes—we can still come back!” So we locked in and scored 50 straight goals. That’s right: 50. I scored 15 of them and Josie scored 19. At the end of the game, everybody on the other team clapped and then wept in awe. Lionel Messi and Megan Rapinoe, who were at the game, came up to us and, in unison, said, “We saw what you did out there, team Lightning, and we’d like to award you this comically large check as a reward for your excellence and grace.” The check was for $50, which, split equally, was a cool $7.14.
Coach/Ref Jacques came up to us after the game and said, “You guys are too good. We can’t have you in the playoffs next week. It just wouldn’t be fair for the rest of the teams.” I was devastated, but I understood. It just wouldn’t be fair. After just one game, it was time to hang up the intramural soccer sneakers. Messi said he would call me, though, if his team ever needed an extra player.
I walked home like Charlie Brown from “Charlie Brown” when Charlie Brown is walking home sadly; that is to say, I was walking home sadly. Here’s the real bummer part of intramural soccer: Back home, I took off my sneakers and found that the tip of my left neon sock had turned red. I took my sock off, and the problem became clear: Five months ago, I dropped a hard case of cinema lenses on my left toe. It hurt a lot, and a thick, bruised band has slowly moved up the nail. Well, that part of the nail was apparently quite weak as it cracked. Having signed away my right to sue, I was powerless. Maybe. Might call Messi and see if he knows any good lawyers.