If you've never had the honor of glancing at the two glazed hams I call thighs, I used to play soccer when I was younger.
My love of soccer came after visiting my cousin during a break from school. She played soccer on an actual team and I got to sit front row at one of the games.
During the game, they accidentally kicked the ball at me and I caught it. I got scolded immediately by my grandma, who was like "you're not supposed to touch the ball!" as a squadron of the players all looked at me and walked towards the ball.
It was like I was holding the golden relic of an egyptian tomb and all the zombies started walking towards me.
Anyway. The experience didn't scar me emotionally enough to stop me from getting interested in soccer. And as luck would have it, there was a means to get into it through my school. I got to be the goalie, which ruled, because I kicked ass at it. I'm really good at keeping balls away from open areas.
But like all good things in my life, it had to come to an end. This hamhawk of a girl came in and said that she used to go to the school, and that she used to be the goalie before I came along. So in order to stop us from fighting, we got to take turns being goalie.
Here's the problem: I am horribly out of shape.
You might not know it looking at me because all I eat are breakfast sausage and hard boiled eggs every six hours to make sure I don't die, and my diet wasn't much better back then. I'm not exactly the perfect example of health. So having to actually run around the field instead of just guard my little space was really brutal. Not to mention, every adult in my life were smokers so I probably had a deep wall of second hand Marlboro Red residue built in my lungs.
I decided if I couldn't be a full-time goalie, I didn't want to play at all because I didn't enjoy being on the field. So I quit.
And then I quit watching soccer, I never rewatched Bend It Like Beckham and my life has been without satin shorts, which makes me come off as less of a lesbian. So that's a change.