Return of the Raison D'Etre!!

After an absence of 18 months, tonight I return to the pitch in the role I was born to play: goalkeeper.

The needle on my butterflies meter is pinned to the right. Deep breaths, deep breaths.

Funny how things work out. Within a week of moving to New York last May I tracked down a team claiming to need a 'keeper. I had my brother overnight my gear from Los Angeles just so I could play. Man, I could not believe my good fortune! Not so fast--those fuckers gave me the run-around and it didn't work out.  They were just scrambling to find some last-second warm bodies.  I stood on the sideline as their backup keeper--clad in a longsleeve t-shit, the fucking hack--allowed goal after goal, succumbing to a loss of about 7-0 if memory serves. So they missed a perfect opportunity to see what I was made of--throw me out there in front of a team that was kicking their ass and putting a lot of shots on goal.  Fuck 'em. Joke's on them.

This time around, the team that came knocking is located in Brooklyn and named after the famed London club Arsenal, to whom I have a powerful allegiance. Also important, unlike those Central Park Rangers (if only the guy in charge of their over-30s was as nice as their website), they seem to be run by some sharp dudes. Even better, this time I'm bringing with me a powerful 27-year-old striker from Benin by way of Ghana, S. Africa, England, France and Atlanta. And possibly his compatriot, a two-footed midfield playmaker, who, I'm reliably informed, delivers creamy passes right to strikers' feet.

This league plays on a full-size pitch, and I'm told its teams field dudes who have played professionally at various levels. Right now the Brooklyn Gunners' young-dudes squad needs a replacement for their awesome but aging and increasingly injured netminder.  Tonight I make sure that's gonna be me. The Gunners also have an over-30 team, which I originally thought would be my fate, now that I'm 35. But fuck that! (Though I must say, the Rangers brought me out for their over-30 team, so I wouldn't mind facing them and dealing out a bit of the ol' (perfectly legal) ultra-violence.

I'm old, rusty, and nervous as hell. Am I in over my head? Is form temporary but class permanent? Will I impress or fall flat on my face?

Stay tuned to this space to find out!