escaping with my life...

Who says soccer is not a dangerous sport. And what I am learning and remembering about boys aged 16 to 18 kids that the coursing of testosterone thru their forming bodies can lead to some explosive results (no pun intended).

Just like any soccer league in the world, there are always rivals and long histories between teams that may date back to before most of these kids were born. Our main rivals are Llloret de mar, seeing as they are the nearest town to us and easiest to get to from our hidden and secluded location in the hills. But this story is not about our beef with them, al be it their boys are friends and sometimes school mates of our boys. But this story takes place with our team and the team from Maçanet (mas suh net).

Maçanet is a small town, larger than Tossa, situated more inland than we are. It is not a long drive away but still I could tell by the tension in the boys, it is not a warm place to visit. I have visited Maçanet many times before as a family friend's daughter lives there and had her communion for her daughter there as well as Alex playing there with his team on many occasions. but this visit was different.

As we are in the second half of the season so if we had one game at home, this half we are playing away in their domain. The first half of the season saw Maçanet entering out domain for a Sunday afternoon game. The game started well and we were soon down. As the match went on, the ref was losing control and the boys were getting a bit physical. The game was nearing the end and we were down 1-2 and attacking with all our might. After a few choice fouls and some time wasting from Maçanet, my boys were getting a bit frustrated and it was showing. Finally in the closing minutes a melee ensued and it got ugly.

Rafa was handling the ball on the right side, the far end of the field from the benches, and closer to the seats for most spectators wishing to sit in the warm sun rather on our side near the dressing rooms and benches where the temp difference could be 5 or 10 degrees with a wind. Rafa got fouled extra hard and I could tel, despite being able to see clearly from that distance and having so many players blocking my view, by the way the crowd reacted. Sure the crowd is a bit biased but I noticed a good number of Maçanetians reacting to other calls in the refs were making toward calls in our favor.

So my wife explained to me during this foul, Rafa was knocked to the ground and Maçanet we over anxious to clear the ball and in turn kick Rafa in his head or near it. since tempers were running high, Rafa, normally the laid back and unconfrentational one, bounced to his feet and started a shoving match. Then all hell broke loose as the benches cleared. Two players had been ejected earlier in the first half due to hard fouls and had already showered and were in the seated crowd on the opposite side of the field waiting for the end of the game. They joined in with fighting crowd and I had to make a 100 yard dash to break up anything before it got too messy.

Unfortunately Alex was there watching this and his normal anxiety exploded seeing his father out there tossing little Catalan boys left and right.

After the smoke cleared, Carme was much more worried about me and wanted us not to attend the return leg of our competition. She tried to convey to me the fury in one boys eyes and the things he said. She even talked about how the Maçanet parents egged on their boys to fight showing little to no home training. Even a parent or two were instigating the melee to a much higher level. in the end, one more Maçanet boy and Rafa were shown a red card thus ejecting them from the game and 3 more future ones. Still we lost the game as the ref blew the whistle right then and the game was over.

So we have had to wait several months to play this return leg. Maçanet sits right under us in the standings and forfeiting this game would mean dropping form 6th place to 7th out of fear of another fight. I talked with Jesús about having the police present but he shrugged it off as nothing. and they say America is violent.

so now we are at the return leg. we enter the town of Maçanet and there is little fanfare. The field is not the best condition as it is made of dirt and no grass or artificial turf like ours. That means a lot of slipping and sliding and poor quality football. I think that is the one reason we find it hard to win with them as they practice on this and we expect a little bit more as we practice on turf. As we made our way to the field from the bus, we walked past some pretty quiet and intimidating looking players. they stood there in their street clothes glaring at us. Of course I was salivating and remembering faces so I knew which boys I wanted to toss first if a fight broke out again.

Once in the dressing room, I scoped out the field and the surrounding area looking for a quick exit like I was the chief of security for Obama. The bus had dropped us off a full 500 yards away from the dressing rooms and we walked the march of death past a few areas that were of concern for me. I did however brighten up seeing a accessible road near the opening to the dressing rooms that we cold make a good get away. but still my first concern was to win the game. It would be horrendous to lose and then get mobbed by the local towns folk, some drunk parents included. I am only one man, however twice as big as most here but I worried more for the safety of my boys and some knife being pulled on any of us.

So we went for warm ups, and then the game began. and it was not without incident. The other team did all they could do while the single ref had his back turned. Joel threatened the goal many times and spent the remaining time fending off threats in his ear. but ferry was getting the bulk of the threats. I noticed his player who was marking him had pushed and shoved him several times and Ferry just smiled and walked away. On one occasion, the player ever took a full swing with his foot into Ferry's knees as Ferry walked away. Mind you this all happened behind the ref's back and without it being a part of a play. So we called out to Ferry to switch sides with Sebastian and I kept my eye on number 10 from their side. He was moving up my list as boys I was looking forward to finding in a mass fight.

Soon Maçanet was up one goal and celebrating as if it was the world cup! have never seen so much energy being expended at the expense of a lucky goal. No organization, no skill, just a lucky bounce. Anyone knows a lucky bounce can happen anytime but on a dirt field, which I am sure they plant some crop here in the off season, anything can happen, the field becomes the 3rd team, the variable. Still my boys, been all well trained and shit, bounced back. with an excellent build up and the keeper being out of place, Joel finished off an excellent opportunity, not wasting this chance like he mistakenly did before. Soon after it was 2-1 after Sebastian mad ethem pay for not handling a ball in their box well. Then the whistle came and it was half time. we headed to the dressing room with our spirits high. After all th adversity faced with th cheap shots and intimidation, our boys kept their heads. still I took note that the coach of Maçanet was standing near the entrance of the dressing room and not allowing stray boys into the area who did not belong.

Jesús was also called over by the single ref and they had a conversation. I was not involved into that conversation until he entered the dressing room telling us to get packed, we are leaving. The ref decided that the growing crowd of parnets and kids were not looking promising for us and he had indeed noticed a lot of fouls from the other team and overheard some of the treats. he did not say anything earlier, hoping the Maçanet coach could keep things under wraps, but with us winning and being a much better team, it was going to get messy if we won after what happened in Tossa. So I went out to talk to our parents and got one to bring the bus to a closer location near the door of the dressing rooms instead of where we were dropped off.

After some time, the crowd in Maçanet grew weary of waiting for the second half and all began to congregate around the dressing rooms. The coach of Maçanet promptly locked the door and called the police for some added eyes. I was the only person standing outside the locked door with anything on that represented Tossa. I felt like if the growing crowd would burst I was first on their list, so adrenaline and anxiety filled in my body so much I cold taste blood!!!

Then a familiar face hit me, it was the boy who was ejected from the first game that was so rabid then, and equally so now. Let me explain if someone is nuts or not. if you punch them in the face today and even if retaliation was committed on his part or not, come back 6 months later and he is equally fired up without provocation, he is nuts. normal people tend to get over it or may harbor some inner feelings, but if it seems like you blinked and 6 months passed and he is 2 times pissed, that person has some issues and anger management problems. Sure I am still pissed at a few local bullies growing up but I am not going to hide behind a tree and whip their asses today. Also I had heard this kid and another were kicked off the team a few months ago, seemingly they had a long history of violence and run ins with other teams. Now, free of the team and in this public place, they were here and ready to vent. And he was as rabid as the day of the last encounter Carme describe she witnessed.

The coach from the other team was now outside and doing a bit of control. No one was doing anything but the growing crowd became a concern until the police arrived. Now armed with police presence, the coach decided to flex a bit against the rabid ex player. The player screamed back he every right to be here as anyone else. But we could all see more parents add to the crowd and do nothing to help the situation. I was starting to see the nature of this area and not digging it one bit. Still I was the only noticeable person from Tossa and I was ready to swing at the first person to sneak up on me.

Soon, the boys were ready to exit the dressing room and without incident, the boys were safely loaded on the bus. The rabid blond decided to walk past the bus and I stepped in his direction to let him know I was not playing if he tried to enter the bus. He was walking into a hornet's nest and I was the Queen bee...wait that did not sound right but you know what I am trying to say. he promptly said he was leaving the area and I watched him and his posse walk past the bus and leave the area. The police officer escorted us out of city limits and we were soon off to our town, smiling and sighing some relief.

Seems that they are planning to play the second half of the game in a neutral location with a closed gate. reminds me of a joke...went to a fight and a hockey game broke out. Still I do look forward to tossing teenage boys around like rag dolls.