Arrived for a 5-a-side game yesterday to learn that our reliable and safe-handed goalkeeper was stuck in traffic at Tower Bridge. This cast a great gloom over us, as she is so absolutely dependable she gives us confidence to push up the pitch as well as keeping us in formation by yelling from the back.
So I volunteered to go in goal for the first half - wearing my motorcycle gloves, as nobody had any spare goalie gloves. Marvellous.
I don't like being in goal. I claim it's because I'm worried about my glasses, but in fact it's the responsibility I can't hack: the buck stops here, or, in my case, usually doesn't. My legs were pretty jelly-like throughout my stint.
I only let the one goal in, in the end (as no other shots went anywhere near the net), and everyone on the team agrees that the kick was in the area and ought not to have been allowed. So that's all right then. Really.
The real hero of the match was Amanda. 2-1 down in the final seconds of the game, we were awarded a penalty kick at the edge of the area and bugger me if she didn't get a shot in for a storybook finish.
It would have been more of a storybook finish if we'd gone from a draw to a win rather than a lose to a draw. Ah well, maybe next time. Who knows - some day I might even get a goal myself.