Return of the Mac

So, for the 14th time, I am coming out of retirement to play football.  As no one cares about this fact, I thought I would document the progress here, outlining the tears (mine, my team mates), the laughter (opposition players, some cruel referees) and the tribulations (my wifes).  In 3 weeks time people will be able to look at this thread and think "who is this cunt who feels the need to tell us every insignificant thing that he does?".

So, I have only ever played for London Polytechnic over here, but am going training for the first time with a new club tonight, Old Parmiterians. The main reason for the new club is location, location, location - Kirsty Allsop is the club chairman.  They have 10 teams, and 3 Masters teams (which I am eligible for) so I am hoping that there is something that matches my (broken) standard. I think that I am hoping to play about 3rd team level, but tonight will most likely be the only training I attend, and I usually miss a game every month, and I don't really like being a sub so it is hard to be too picky.  Training tonight is apparently a combination of the 1st, 3rd, 4th and 10th teams, so I am not sure how that will work.

As it has been a couple of years since I have played, I have had to go and buy some new boots, which I am currently wearing with dress slacks in the office.  It is giving me an over-whelming desire to bobsled someone through the watercooler.

So how did it go?

Who are you and why do you feel the need to tell us every insignificant thing that you do?

Kirsty Allsopp has nice boobs!

All I can say is that  I have never met a Scot that  can disguise his accent.

All I can say is that people should always read the original post.

(from someone who is not famous)

Interesting.  For not the first time in my life, the guy who I contacted and who told me to meet him there did not seem to exist - he apparently was a committee member for the club, but no one who I asked had ever heard of him.  I ended up tagging on to a bunch of guys to go training with them, and they were friendly enough.  Once it started, the standard was......mixed, and it soon became apparent that it was the Vets C team - basically the 13th team in a club of 13 teams.

At the end of the session, one of the guys running the team told me that I could come down to watch them play this weekend (to get an idea of the standard), and then probably be a sub from the week after - getting 10 mins in the first game, then 20 mins and building up to a half.  He said that is what Chippo had been doing, which was slightly worrying as Chippo was one of the few other players there who could kick a ball straight.  There was also numerous mentions from the guys there about how important training was, and it was a bit garbage that a few of the players were late.  Considering I was planning on not training again, this could be a problem.

So it seems that Vets C is too serious for me, but a that shouldn't be a problem as I am not good enough for them.

 No room in the Jonesy for you?

No - they did say at the start that one of their players already plays in the Jonesy.  I was surprised that they called it that here.

Does this mean that I have fallen below Nighthawks level?

Capital 14... so it's probably close.

I think you need to bring your wife to training and do laps with her on your back - it's the only way to get noticed these days

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adrian_P%C4%83tulea

I may struggle to convince the wife that is a productive use of her time.

So I'm going back training again tonight in the hope of getting a run about on Saturday.  Training twice in a week takes me back to the halcyon days at Kaiwharawhara.

So training twice a week is a bit tough at my age.

In a complete contrast from Tuesday night, last night I was training with what appeared to be the Under 17's, and boy were they a bunch of ADHD affected fuckers.  There was one poor bloke trying to organise some coaching and they just wandered about, doing what they wanted, not paying the blindest bit of interest in him.  I, like a mature student at University, followed every command with great diligence but it did not seem to bring me a great deal of respect from the other lads.  In fact, one kid spent the last 10 mins of the game trying to get into a position to stab me with a home-made shiv he kept in my sock after he hurt his nose running into my shoulder.  Maybe next week I will try pulling my socks down to see if that helps me fit in better.

The standard was really strange - it seems years of FIFA mean that all the kids could do weird tricks that earnt lots of "WHOOPS" and "BRUVS, YOU BEEN MERKED" from the other players (team mates and opposition alike), but no one could pass the ball 5 yards.  James Dean informed me that the young people of this era call them "Tekkers", but it meant my simple "pass and move" philosophy alienated me even further from the heard.  At one stage I tried to join in by yelling "AAAHHHH, THAT WAS CHOICE BRO" when someone took a throw in, but it did not have the desired affect.

So 1 week and 2 training sessions in, I have discovered that the Vets C team and the Yoof team don't want me.  But like a particularly nasty dose of herpes, they will not get rid of me that easily.

Loving this Frankie Mac. Keep the updates coming.

Far out its the off season in the Bay of Plenty Frankie! Training, oh dear what a horrible thought. Good luck though.

Retire

The wife won't let me. She is sick of buying me football boots,  wearing them twice and then throwing them out. 

.

Don't throw out used boots Frankie!!!

Sell your collection of twice used boots on eBay and buy a Playstation 3 with FIFA 13.

It's all about the tekkers!!!

So I got a late call up on Saturday morning, and played 90 mins for the Vets B.  We were playing against a club that was created by Steve Harris (singer in Iron Maiden, although he was not there), drew 3-3, and I was useless (especially in front of goal).  Played up front and missed a hatful of chances - so many that the team now call me jigsaw (looks alright, but goes to peices in the box).

The team seem like a decent bunch of guys, although a couple of them are a bit rough around the edges.  I got some sprig marks down the back of my leg during the game, and this was an actual conversation that happened afterwards:

Teammate: what happened to your leg?

Me: one of their guys caught me, but it wasn't a big deal - it was an accident and he spent the next 5 minutes of the game apologising to me.

Teammate:  no such thing as an accident on the football field.

Me: um.....yeah

Teammate: You should have nutted him.

Me:

bass player, lead singer - who cares.  Everyone knows that the only person that matters in a band is the drummer.

I'm not sure I am actually good enough for the Vets B team yet, but they did let me play for them.  I am away this weekend, and not bothering to go to training during the week so we'll see if they ever ask me to come back.

Was away in the weekend just been, and officially retired from training, so about to email the club to see if anyone wants me.  If the Vets B
give me a quiet brush-off when I make myself available for them, I will have hit rock bottom in my career.

Are you still living at Highbury?

Are you suggesting Arsenal might be looking for someone with Frankie Mac's abilities?

I thought there was only one Tony Adams?

um....yeah, still living in Highbury.

No response from the coach of the Vets B.  This could very likely end up with me drowning my sorrows in a pie.

2 days and no response from the Vets B.  Officially

ooops - spoke to soon.  Cup game this weekend, and the Vets B want me (possibly to keep the bench warm).

As the weather has turned wetter, I am going to have to buy another pair of boots for this weekend (only had mouldies, so need some studs), which will no doubt impress the wife.  Potentially throwing out 2 pairs of boots in a couple of weeks.

been raining, so bought these for today's game

Joma?

Seriously?

Do you hate your feet?

They are alright.

So we had a cup game yesterday and I started up front. Opposition scored before we touched the ball, and we equalised about 5 mins later.  On about the 10 minutes mark, I got the ball on the edge of the box, did a sharp turn to square up the defender, quick foot over to send him off balance, skipped past him and BANG. Calf bork and I spend the rest of the game (which goes to fucking extra time) sulking in the cold being the linesman.

This may be the end of the dream (again)

That's what you get for skipping training.

probably.  Went to physio yesterday and got some acupuncture (felt a little prick, etc) but it seems like I will be out for about 3 weeks.  Considering I am away on holiday from 3 weeks from now, I guess that I am not playing again this year.