Since I am no longer traveling extensively, and simply now manage a daily commute of about an hour from Manly to Ultimo for work (think Ferry, Train, walk, arrive!) I would like to take this opportunity to shift the focus of Carlagoespostal from travel stories to simply stories from the bizarre, dramatic and sometimes serendipitous life I am leading here in Sydney.
So now I submit, The Referee.
I am currently playing on a women's soccer team. I was playing random pick-up soccer at Moore Park after work when a girl came over and asked me if I wanted to play with their team. I was currently playing on the Sydney University team and so I said I would check it out. I practiced with them that night and then a few days later. It was such a better fit - the girls there were friendly and older (as in they had jobs and weren't Uni students) and the team did less traveling.
And so my love affair with the Dunbar Rovers began. We killed teams in the early going, before the league was split into two separate divisions. Our home field is at Rushcutters Bay, right on the water. You can see Sydney Harbour and sailboats just behind the goal. It is pretty magical. After we had our first few tougher opponents and managed to come out unscathed, I knew our team was bound to do some special things. Alan our coach entered us into a State League competition - playing tougher teams from regions around the city. It was a much better comp and we flew past the first round. We beat one of our central players former teams to advance past the second round. And this weekend we meet the Liverpool Rangers to get to the Final Four.
Here's where the ironic funny story comes in. We had been rained out for a few practices thanks to Sydney's glorious weather. The whole country is in drought except Sydney. So we managed to get a scrimmage invite at UNSW. We rolled up to play under the lights. It was great fun, but the referee was the opposing team's coach. He was of Eastern European descent. He reminded me of my coach growing up who was Polish. After the first 25 minutes of play, we had put a lot of pressure on their goal but hadn't managed to score. The second period started and we put 2 quick goals away. That's when the "creative officiating" began. The coach called 4 fouls in a row for his team. Not even 1 for us. He gave them throw-ins that were clearly ours. It was getting ridiculous. I may or may not have said something like, "Just because you're losing. Ref it fair." The minutes tick by. We enter the third period. They had an offensive chance. Claire, our sweeper for the game, tackled the girl in the box. It was a fair tackle and 50% of the time, if I had been reffing, I would have called it and the other half I wouldn't have.
She gets up and says, "I got all ball!" We all complain a bit.
The referee/coach then blows up. He's like, no no no, everyone is a smart ass. Come on! Come on? That is BULL shit. And walks off the field, taking his confused players with him.
It was the most bizarre and immature series of events I have seen in a very long time. But it made for some entertaining fodder.
So the whole Manly crew is heading up to the Hawkesbury River region to stay at a cabin for the weekend. We are driving up armed with food, booze and plenty of board games. It should prove extremely entertaining, and I hope I can eek out a story or two for the blog.
