Mad Cows vs. Mix-Team

After many - MANY - wins, the team tasted the bitterness of a defeat. Not that we’re not familiar with it, but it still hurts. We started well, suspiciously well. Everyone on time, all documents, nobody forgot the socks, the tape, or the thousand accessories we need to kick a ball. We were so on time that we shared the changing room with our last defeaters… Sancat. Maybe they did some voodoo on our forwards golden feet, because the ball did not make it to the goal even once in 50 minutes. Not even the known “long shoots and see if it touch the ass of someone and get’s in” worked. The aim was totally biased on Tuesday.

We even started even doing warm-up exercises (really, you see? That is odd). Because this team gets its power form chaos, the order seemed to confuse us. Still, we started with a solid 13 minutes - aprox. let’s be generous. With a strong defense, amazing goalie, order and position about right. Some attacks, even stealing balls… Mix team started to shit in their pants, they were not able to get in or jump us, and their connections were lost because we were just on point, but then… we got a goal. And short after, two more. The feared and famous five minutes of “it’s raining shit” made their appearance. And while a 1-0, generally, make us move our asses and start to get on the game, with a 3-0 we just look the to the clock and pray to the Pope to make the pain stop. And that, my dears, it was what killed us.

They were a good team, yes. They had great players, true. But, that did not make such a difference, we have great players too. The main difference is that they fought for each inch of the pitch. Their eagerness to get the ball stroke us, and we started to just follow their lead, as doggies chasing a ball. Then, when we got the ball, we gave it back to them. Just like a doggie expecting another throw to run and catch up the ball. They were good, but we are not bad, the difference is that they fought for the ball, they wanted it and enjoyed it. We seemed better at holding than creating.

Yet, we got back on our feet, or sort of. We seemed to find again our positions, the kicks awaken us and the walking dead cows starting to bite to get the ball, from time to time. Bea, la regina della porta, held us with amazing saves and some Spanish encouraging words that I’ll better not translate… Sharknado Ale was ready to fight for each ball, giving it all on the pitch, a bit annoyed because of doggie-chasing approach. Totally on point. The visit of the Pope to Florence inspired Ieva the Word of Moises, who opened the wall of Mix team defense. Literally, they just moved out of her way. The poor goalie was stroked by the power of The Word. Bea seemed to be jealous of the miracle performed by Ieva, so she performed her “savior” role and stopped an autogoal of Pinky Brewser, who almost scored with her back-ass.

Yet, the defeat and our game was not so bad. Sporadically, the hope seemed to enlighten us, and we were fighting for the ball, and for the match. But, the hope seemed to come and go randomly, as if at a times we just felt that we’re too old for this shit and wanted to go directly for the beers. So, girls, let’s try to learn from this game. We won’t win if we don’t fight for each inch of the pitch. Mix team was good. A good team, but we are not bad, and we should stop thinking we can’t make it and drop the game before it ends. We can make it, if we fight, if we talk, if we just play as we know we can. In sum, if we start believing we could start dreaming.