The beautiful game!

It was an innocent enough conversation between My beautiful wife 'A' and Annand, a work colleague that ultimately left me in the sorry condition I find myself in today. Sorry condition? That actually doesn't come anywhere near doing it justice, if I was the proverbial horse, I would by now have been led out the back and unceremoniously blasted in the head!

In complete agony with a bad back, torn hamstring, constant cramp in both calves, blistered toe's, heel's and ball's of feet, not to mention alone - 'A' is UK bound with work - and all this on my 7th wedding anniversary! Happy anniversary darling I love you more today than ever, but will not forgive you for that pesky conversation with Annand!

'A' made the mistake of mentioning to Annand that I had played a bit of football in my time. Though this may be true, my time was unfortunately too far back in the murky depths of time to be remembered. I was introduced to him and he asked me to:

"Join me and a few friends on Sunday for a game"

It is very hard to say no to anyone here, as they are so genuine and enthusiastic about everything. Also it has to be admitted, I still fancy that I can "do a job" for any club, anywhere and at any standard if pushed! This clearly is a ridiculous thing to think and has been proved utterly incorrect on more than one occasion, however I just can't resist. Ever since I scored a 40 yarder at my cousin Nigel's 40th birthday game 10 years ago -it gets longer every time I see him - I still feel I have that little bit of magic to offer and thus agreed to play!

Mistake number 1!

Play however I did and though I may not be able to walk properly ever again I have to say that I really enjoyed myself. On arrival at our meeting point, the Hari Nagar sports complex it started to dawn on me that this wasn't going to be a Sunday afternoon stroll at the local park. This was a fairly serious affair with good facilities and what appeared to be a well kitted out bunch of athletic looking guys in their mid 20's. After a bit of stretching and 10 mins of knocking the ball about I was asked - due to my height as opposed to them witnessing my first touch I hope - If I played in goal. I replied that I was predominantly a defender but had played in the midfield quite a bit as a youth.

Mistake number 2!!

After a bit of pre match chat - which involved me telling anyone who would listen I was nearly 40 - it turned out that this was in fact the squad of the Delhi Cantt football club - yes that is cantt - a well respected member of the Indian fa national league!! I was so far out of my depth I was in danger of getting the bends and was seriously considering feigning a hamstring strain! The only glimmer of hope I had to cling to was that I am a good 2 stone lighter than the last time I pulled on a shirt and I no longer smoke. These faint glimmers were unfortunately completely overshadowed by the fact that it was still about 38 degs and 90 per cent humidity, the pitch was like concrete, the other players were younger and fitter not to mention acclimatised and I haven't played for a long time! I was in trouble and knew it. On top of this I had already drunk most of my 2 litres of water and we hadn't even kicked off!

Mistake number 3!!!

Now the fact that I had drunk my 2 litres of water will not seem like a problem to most people. Here however, drinking water from a source other than purchased bottles or home filtration systems is like playing Russian Roulette. The main difference being that instead of the contents of your head plastering the walls, the contents of your stomach plaster the porcelain. For about a week! This now left me with a serious problem, dehydration or dysentery?!! I felt like Bear Grylls in a pair of Adidas Gazelle and a yellow bib. I could hear his voice going through my head over and over again:

"In these conditions a man can die of dehydration in hours. He has to find water and fast but from a reliable source. Drinking contaminated water in this environment is an instant death sentence"!

All this and we hadn't even kicked off! I decided I had to drink or die and so filled my bottle from the communal water cooler a decision I am waiting to see if I regret! Finally we kicked off and I immediately stepped into the holding midfielder role, thinking I would just stand there, collect the loose balls and pass it on.

Mistake number 4!!!!

I seemed to have the responsibility in this position of picking up probably the best player in India. Within 10 mins of kick off I was ready to collapse. Shirt soaked, head spinning and breathing the way a goldfish does when tipped from the bowl. All ready to admit defeat and head for the side lines an extremely odd thing happened. I received the ball from the centre half with my back to the oppositions goal on the half way line. Summoning up all my powers of strength and concentration,I got on my toes ready to get my touch right when a cry of "man on" went up! Oh the sweet international language of football! I snapped out of my dehydration induced dizziness and as if in slow motion my body became at one with the ball. I rolled round 180 degs while bringing the ball under control and with a swivel of the hips and jink of the foot side stepped the on coming Indian Pele before stroking a perfect cross field ball to the feet of our left winger.It was like old times. I had remembered in that few seconds what it was like to play properly, how you know when something you did looks good from the sidelines, feels good inside and is respected by others on the park.This is why I was here, this is why I said yes, this is the buzz only football can give you! With a mixture of adrenaline and shock, I headed off down the pitch looking for a return pass from the tricky looking little Sikh winger thinking to myself maybe I can still play, more than that, if I can get fit I might still have a season in me, sod that I might even have a world cup in me!

Mistake number 5!!!!!

The return pass never came! Not only did it never come, I was now in a situation where I had to sprint to get back into position, this I duly did wanting to show willing for the team but knowing it was probably going to finish me off and boy did it. Realising the error of my way's I returned to my holding role and prayed for the end of the match. Half time came and now feeling the 4 litres of water I had consumed taking affect I asked the skipper where to go for a pee. His response was:

"Find a wall, make sure there are no women watching then go naaa"

Re-hydrated and rested over half time, I approached the second half with renewed vigour and a fourth wind. It was quite a surreal experience to hear players using phrases like "good shot", "man on" and "knock it" interspersed with their native Hindi.I started to think I know how it feels for the foreign import, thrust into a team he doesn't know speaking a language he doesn't but loving the game enough to put up with it. Javier Mascherano basically only taller, fatter and rubbish. The full time whistle came and not a minute too soon, we shook hands and I dripped off to the car with Annand to be deposited at home where I stumbled into the house near death. As I sat on the settee and basked in the aching limb glory of it all, I realised that I actually enjoyed it immensely. Though hard work and possibly doing damage of the long term variety, you just can't beat a game of football.It doesn't matter if you speak the same language, are the same colour, caste or ability it is the perfect game for male bonding anywhere in the world.

For the record,my side won 10-2, I drank 7 litres of water - and only pissed once - lost 8 pounds in weight, scored 1, made 2 and have been invited back to play next week with the coach's words echoing in my head

"We would like you to come again next week, you have good height"

Will I be going again?

Definitely.


Mistake number 6? !!!!!!