Yesterday, January 19th was all about football.

I amazed myself by getting out of bed at 11:30, putting togteher a suitable outfit for winter football, and headed up to McCaren park with D.H. The game was fun, and of course i was glad I went, but i'm sure suffering today. Even the firendliest football games are physical, and this was no exception. I was the smallest guy on the field by at least 15 lbs. I can make up for some of it by hustling, but invariably you find yourself getting bumped by "the other fellows."

During one play in which I was on the defensive line, one of their receivers I was covering straight-armed me right off the snap, all the while making a spinning movement to get around me. This would have enabled him to get deep into the downfield, while leaving me two or three paces back. I know he didn't mean to, but the kid's arm came around wide as he spun, and he caught me on the cheek with an open palm as his body tourqued around. I was slightly stunned, and I think I muttered "fuck" to myself.
Then I sprinted after him down to the end zone. When I caught up, I don't remember if he was then carrying a pass he'd received. It wasn't the reason I was after him at that point anyway: He could have been running for the bench. I came running up along side him, checked him lightly and then tripped him. He was at a good run when I tackled him thus, and he went down hard and slid a few feet. When he got up he was smiling, but he said, "why did you trip me man?"
"You slapped me hard across the face when you came off the line dude." I said.
"Oh, I'm sorry." He said genuinely.
"Being a little guy in sports -" I said shaking my head slowly. "It's the only way to stay alive on the field."

At least it's the only way I know. It's always been a kind of gospel of masculinity: In a game if someone hits you dirty, then you have to straighten him out right away. In hockey it's accepted practice; in boxing even more so. Sporting conduct grows right out of the junior high locker room; and that's law of the jungle.

So why don't I feel totally clean about it? I've got all my justifications lined-up perfectly. It would seem to be an open-and-shut case within my inner-courtroom. Now I'm thinking of taking this case all the way to my own supreme court.

I have a problem with getting hit in the face: I never liked it. Who does like it? I don't think anyone particularly likes getting hit hard in the face: But I really lose myself. It was always the worst thing in boxing - just getting popped! It makes you want to cry, yell, rage, turn around and run...

But chasing a guy down and deliberately tripping him in a friendly pick-up football game.

That's a tough one.