Monday, September 2, 2013
Lost time - setting the scene
Since my last post there have been several readjustments, and I would anticipate one more big one before too much longer. Now is a good time to backtrack and comment on some of the things which have happened in the last ~3 years, without doubt more than which happens to most people in their complete lifetime, certainly geographically. Thankfully not medically.
Where I last left you, I was in mid-winter 2010/11. I don't think the decision to move to Costa Rica had yet been set in stone, but I certainly wasn't hanging around in Scotland much beyond that point. It should be noted that the obvious choice for me, Japan, was shelved yet again based on one or two factors, one of which did not include the Tohoku earthquake and resulting nuclear leak. Staying within the International House network, wanting somewhere tropical and Spanish speaking, the choice came down to Mexico or Costa Rica. IH Mexico's reputation reached nowhere near the level of IH Costa Rica, and the decision was pretty much made at interview.
So after a month's layover in Central USA, a 2 week road trip in a little red convertible, some US sporting events, a bit of snowboarding, lots of frozen margaritas and craft beers, it was off to San Jose (Chepe).
Monday, November 29, 2010
Dunedin Thistle AFC
Having just seen El Clasico, read all about the Raiders's impressive showing in Manila, and being presently stuck between a cancelled Sunday game and a cancelled training session thanks to the snowfall, this seems about as good a point as any to reflect on the way my own amateur football involvement has been going.
Rewind a little and Floyd's acupuncturist told me I should wait about a year before "returning to the bench" in December last year. He also mentioned during one of the 3 $50 sessions I attended that the healing process was based around 50% dietary, 20% exercise related, 20% pills intake and 10% down to his methods. There left me little doubt that I wasn't going to keep paying $50 twice weekly when I could stop eating sugar and boozing and improve my condition for free. Not that I was ever going to do either of those. Although I now take milk and just the one sugar in my tea instead of two.
Anyway, playing in goals for Raiders towards the end of my time in VN gave me a taste again and the confidence that I could get back involved in football without risking my leg for a third time. I had toyed with the idea of doing some refereeing, but I thought there was still some game time left in me yet.
I had a look on Gumtree for clubs needing a goalkeeper during pre season and emailed a couple. Links Utd, the first one to get back to me invited me along to a training session which was largely pre-season running. Having purposefully avoided pounding tarmac with my twice broken leg, this run up and around Arthur's seat was torture and only the last 5 minutes was in any way related to my skills or development. We had a game that midweek which I featured for the last 20 minutes after their existing keeper had ruined his clean sheet by trying to dribble round a striker, and managed to keep the score at 2-1.
However the intense pre season fitness schedule meant that I was burdened with pain at the site of my recovering double fracture and I skipped a couple of training sessions, only managing to make another 20 minute substitute appearance for them. It turned out there were 3 different keepers in the frame for the team and I wasn't feeling confident enough in my leg strength to battle it out for a starting slot.
Subsequently I was prepared to content myself with pick up games of 7's or whatever I could get with friends. However, after a 5's tournament with an ex-colleague, I was forwarded an email appealing for a half-decent 'keeper from another ex-colleague, and went along to one of their pre-season friendlies to see the existing 'keeper blunder his way through the second half to lose them the game 6-5.
This was my number 1 shirt. There was no able competition and an agreement that I train when I could. After a single training session, we had the opening game of the season and earned a 4-2 victory at or home ground. I played well, bookmarked www.justkeepers.com and loaded up my credit card.
Unfortunately, a couple of months later, we haven't won a game since and my performances have been somewhat less impressive, masked by the fact that we have only been scoring a goal a game, and not really threatening to beat anyone. We should really be a solid mid-table outfit, but have been left with 5 points out of 6 games due to ill-discipline, an inability to deal with the long ball and laziness.
My leg has turned a corner and I rarely feel leg pain anymore, only wincing occasionaly when performing twisting landings, so I have been training nearly every week. I have been picking up new injuries more frequently than I would like but that's something I'm having to accept as par for the course now.
There is a small Spanish contingent in our squad, and they introduced a goalkeeper who came along and impressed during the same training session that I nearly broke some fingers. He then got his chance in the weekend game where we had played for 87 minutes with 10 men after another debutant was dismissed for a headbutt, and despite taking a 2-0 lead, we drew 2-2 against an inferior side. He has since been unable to play or train due to his work commitments and I have not lost the jersey.
My expectations of this league were of aging squads, a lot of on field hostility and dirty challenges. What has been surprising is the youthfulness of most of these teams. The more senior players have been a lot calmer, less prone to go into savage challenges, which would prolong their playing careers.
Compared to Vietnam (which will inevitably evoke a wave of sentimentality for SRFC), we only have a referee, so offside calls are dubious and don't help my teams attitude to the validity of long ball tactic that opposing teams invariably adopt. I have played 6 games and spectated at one where I was injured, and there has not been a single photo taken. Team spirit is conspicuous by it's absence. And we are facing a winter shutdown because the snow has arrived. Our captain has walked out on us because he felt unappreciated for taking the team in the absence of the main two in charge.
So the focus is now on playing well personally, enjoying my football, avoiding injury and identifying an 11's team in San Jose.
Rewind a little and Floyd's acupuncturist told me I should wait about a year before "returning to the bench" in December last year. He also mentioned during one of the 3 $50 sessions I attended that the healing process was based around 50% dietary, 20% exercise related, 20% pills intake and 10% down to his methods. There left me little doubt that I wasn't going to keep paying $50 twice weekly when I could stop eating sugar and boozing and improve my condition for free. Not that I was ever going to do either of those. Although I now take milk and just the one sugar in my tea instead of two.
Anyway, playing in goals for Raiders towards the end of my time in VN gave me a taste again and the confidence that I could get back involved in football without risking my leg for a third time. I had toyed with the idea of doing some refereeing, but I thought there was still some game time left in me yet.
I had a look on Gumtree for clubs needing a goalkeeper during pre season and emailed a couple. Links Utd, the first one to get back to me invited me along to a training session which was largely pre-season running. Having purposefully avoided pounding tarmac with my twice broken leg, this run up and around Arthur's seat was torture and only the last 5 minutes was in any way related to my skills or development. We had a game that midweek which I featured for the last 20 minutes after their existing keeper had ruined his clean sheet by trying to dribble round a striker, and managed to keep the score at 2-1.
However the intense pre season fitness schedule meant that I was burdened with pain at the site of my recovering double fracture and I skipped a couple of training sessions, only managing to make another 20 minute substitute appearance for them. It turned out there were 3 different keepers in the frame for the team and I wasn't feeling confident enough in my leg strength to battle it out for a starting slot.
Subsequently I was prepared to content myself with pick up games of 7's or whatever I could get with friends. However, after a 5's tournament with an ex-colleague, I was forwarded an email appealing for a half-decent 'keeper from another ex-colleague, and went along to one of their pre-season friendlies to see the existing 'keeper blunder his way through the second half to lose them the game 6-5.
This was my number 1 shirt. There was no able competition and an agreement that I train when I could. After a single training session, we had the opening game of the season and earned a 4-2 victory at or home ground. I played well, bookmarked www.justkeepers.com and loaded up my credit card.
Unfortunately, a couple of months later, we haven't won a game since and my performances have been somewhat less impressive, masked by the fact that we have only been scoring a goal a game, and not really threatening to beat anyone. We should really be a solid mid-table outfit, but have been left with 5 points out of 6 games due to ill-discipline, an inability to deal with the long ball and laziness.
My leg has turned a corner and I rarely feel leg pain anymore, only wincing occasionaly when performing twisting landings, so I have been training nearly every week. I have been picking up new injuries more frequently than I would like but that's something I'm having to accept as par for the course now.
There is a small Spanish contingent in our squad, and they introduced a goalkeeper who came along and impressed during the same training session that I nearly broke some fingers. He then got his chance in the weekend game where we had played for 87 minutes with 10 men after another debutant was dismissed for a headbutt, and despite taking a 2-0 lead, we drew 2-2 against an inferior side. He has since been unable to play or train due to his work commitments and I have not lost the jersey.
My expectations of this league were of aging squads, a lot of on field hostility and dirty challenges. What has been surprising is the youthfulness of most of these teams. The more senior players have been a lot calmer, less prone to go into savage challenges, which would prolong their playing careers.
Compared to Vietnam (which will inevitably evoke a wave of sentimentality for SRFC), we only have a referee, so offside calls are dubious and don't help my teams attitude to the validity of long ball tactic that opposing teams invariably adopt. I have played 6 games and spectated at one where I was injured, and there has not been a single photo taken. Team spirit is conspicuous by it's absence. And we are facing a winter shutdown because the snow has arrived. Our captain has walked out on us because he felt unappreciated for taking the team in the absence of the main two in charge.
So the focus is now on playing well personally, enjoying my football, avoiding injury and identifying an 11's team in San Jose.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Looking for work
When I was in Scotland between graduation and going out to Vietnam, I would generally stick in a job for 8-14 months before picking something else up rather easily. The length of time I spent unemployed had been completely up to me. So when I was hearing from my mother (the ultimate pessimist reactionary) about the dearth of jobs available even for those emerging from uni with quality degrees, I dismissed the situation as problems concerning graduates with no experience battling it out with each other for the select few top jobs.
I'll at this stage admit that the truth lies close to what my dear old mum intimated when I was still in HCMC. Seemingly the majority of people are suffering joblessness for somewhere between 2 to 8 months before finding gainful employment.
After working for the Edinburgh International Festival during August, it took exactly 2 months for something promising to crop up for me. Admittedly I could have been trying harder and applying for more menial tasks (I would like to think that Pizza Hut would take me back in a heartbeat - but I think that era is best left behind).
It didn't take long for us to start thinking about where to go to find ourselves valued and receive offers for our considerable talents. Japan of course was the first place that cropped up and we almost immediately agreed to try and find an 'in' sometime after our lease ran out on the flat here in Edinburgh. However, Hana's Japanese teaching contacts painted a not too dissimilar picture to that of the UK and we started opening our minds to alternatives.
Costa Rica had been second on my preference list of TEFL course locations back in 2007, an interest which had been built on the back of my research into a potential second animal care volunteer project after returning from wrestling with African penguins. Since then only the glowing reports from semi-regular visitor Florian, and a passing mention of the allure it also held for Hana had really brought Costa Rica to the forefront of my mind. When it emerged that Hana knew a current IH Costa Rica employee and was about to get in contact with the DOS, it very quickly became a lead that should be followed up.
If only to see some Ocelots.
Basically, we both had a Skype interview which was short and sweet, contained no tricky questions and inferred that our CV's spoke for themselves, and a few days later had received offers for contracts starting in May of next year.
What a contrast.
Until that point, I had not heard a single word that hadn't been an automated email response (apart from that painful Bank Of Scotland phone interview) and following a 15/20 minute chat here was a guy 8500kms away who was prepared to offer me a job based on the very same CV.
Which would enable me to see three toed sloths crossing the road as we travelled the ridiculously small distances from San Jose to the beach.
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Subsequently, I have had an interview here which sounds tantalisingly like a nice little driving gig to fill the intervening months before I fly West shortly after my 30th birthday.
However, neither of these are more than words at this early stage.
The situation in general is not much of an inspiration to return to these frozen shores any time soon.
I'll at this stage admit that the truth lies close to what my dear old mum intimated when I was still in HCMC. Seemingly the majority of people are suffering joblessness for somewhere between 2 to 8 months before finding gainful employment.
After working for the Edinburgh International Festival during August, it took exactly 2 months for something promising to crop up for me. Admittedly I could have been trying harder and applying for more menial tasks (I would like to think that Pizza Hut would take me back in a heartbeat - but I think that era is best left behind).
It didn't take long for us to start thinking about where to go to find ourselves valued and receive offers for our considerable talents. Japan of course was the first place that cropped up and we almost immediately agreed to try and find an 'in' sometime after our lease ran out on the flat here in Edinburgh. However, Hana's Japanese teaching contacts painted a not too dissimilar picture to that of the UK and we started opening our minds to alternatives.
Costa Rica had been second on my preference list of TEFL course locations back in 2007, an interest which had been built on the back of my research into a potential second animal care volunteer project after returning from wrestling with African penguins. Since then only the glowing reports from semi-regular visitor Florian, and a passing mention of the allure it also held for Hana had really brought Costa Rica to the forefront of my mind. When it emerged that Hana knew a current IH Costa Rica employee and was about to get in contact with the DOS, it very quickly became a lead that should be followed up.
If only to see some Ocelots.
Basically, we both had a Skype interview which was short and sweet, contained no tricky questions and inferred that our CV's spoke for themselves, and a few days later had received offers for contracts starting in May of next year.
What a contrast.
Until that point, I had not heard a single word that hadn't been an automated email response (apart from that painful Bank Of Scotland phone interview) and following a 15/20 minute chat here was a guy 8500kms away who was prepared to offer me a job based on the very same CV.
Which would enable me to see three toed sloths crossing the road as we travelled the ridiculously small distances from San Jose to the beach.
">
Subsequently, I have had an interview here which sounds tantalisingly like a nice little driving gig to fill the intervening months before I fly West shortly after my 30th birthday.
However, neither of these are more than words at this early stage.
The situation in general is not much of an inspiration to return to these frozen shores any time soon.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
The trumpet
Most peoples memories of WOZA revolve around the noise picked up by TV cameras giving the impression that there was a constant droning sound deafening all inside the ground. Not the case when you were actually there. I wasn't and still am not a massive fan of the Vuvuzela, but it was by no means annoying to me when I was actually at the matches. My ambivalence to the instrument comes about due it's position as a direct replacement for team songs and chants, which to me is a critical part of physically going to games. I certainly wouldn't have invested my own money on one, but when Henno brought me one back from Bloem, I embraced it as I would any Orlando Pirates emblazoned merchandise.
A relatively poor debut showing from my lips as I tried to make an impression on the Green Point stadium and it's surrounds, the knack seemed to come and go, and stay gone. The trumpet has since featured in the away end at Aberdeen .v. Hearts, helping the away team to a 1-0 win. I wasn't the mouthpiece at that game, having long since thought better of sitting around at Pittodrie in late Autumn watching football just yards away from the baltic North Sea coast. My nephew was the one who endeared himself to the travelling support that day.
However, this was not the only trumpet to feature in my World Cup experience. Stellenbosch's premier drinking hole, The Trumpet Tree, was our venue on several nights to watch the games. Seemingly ran by one of Henno and Christoff's old academic pals, the provision of a log fire and flamin' hot Jalapeno Poppers warmed the frozen souls of those who had migrated to the Cape in winter from much more tropical climes. The Trumpet at the world cup this year, for me, will always be the bar, and not the plastic instrument.
A relatively poor debut showing from my lips as I tried to make an impression on the Green Point stadium and it's surrounds, the knack seemed to come and go, and stay gone. The trumpet has since featured in the away end at Aberdeen .v. Hearts, helping the away team to a 1-0 win. I wasn't the mouthpiece at that game, having long since thought better of sitting around at Pittodrie in late Autumn watching football just yards away from the baltic North Sea coast. My nephew was the one who endeared himself to the travelling support that day.
However, this was not the only trumpet to feature in my World Cup experience. Stellenbosch's premier drinking hole, The Trumpet Tree, was our venue on several nights to watch the games. Seemingly ran by one of Henno and Christoff's old academic pals, the provision of a log fire and flamin' hot Jalapeno Poppers warmed the frozen souls of those who had migrated to the Cape in winter from much more tropical climes. The Trumpet at the world cup this year, for me, will always be the bar, and not the plastic instrument.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
#1 The first 72 hours of 2010.
Note* This was drafted months ago and appears here in - more or less - it's original form. I need to close out this countdown so I can concentrate on updating people with what has been happening and is planned for the coming months.
Am I cheating by quoting a period of 3 days? Don't care. By paraphrasing the modern philosopher Tassell "It's a vibe". December was undoubtedbly the most depressed I have ever been. On crutches, my comeback on two legs- particularly on the football field- shattered, and facing a year out of football, never to play for my team again was bad enough but upon our return from a fantastic stag weekend in Phuket, I slumped to a new low. A not inconsiderable number of friends were voicing their displeasure for Saigon, the recent parallel that I had drawn with Thailand, facing what could well be our last complete family Xmas plus a very sombre juncture in time all conspired to make mid December such a difficult time for me.
However, I made a couple of people share my baggage, and things began to look up. Things certainly took a positive spin at the Apollo Xmas party, and I looked forward to New Year with genuine lust for life. An intimate house party for those Apollo-ites who were working on the evening of the 31st was held at our house. Of course, we subsequently hit TNR (which had never smelled better) where, in a throwback to the first time I met Casey, everyone was having a good old bug-eyed time and the celebrations eventually wound up at... forgotten the name of the cafe upstairs on Do Quang Dao... when life for the Saigonese had begun yet another ordinary day. And for me, 2010 brought a fresh new beginning which enabled me to really embrace my final months in SE Asia.
Without getting too publicly soppy, Hana was (without being too literal) the one thing about Saigon I am taking away with me. And the best thing. I mean, I love my Phuket Spicy 7's winner's medal, don't get me wrong. Again, I'm at risk of harping on about the Raiders, but my piece on them has come and gone. Raiders are in my past and Hana is in my future. Wherever the hell that will take place!
Am I cheating by quoting a period of 3 days? Don't care. By paraphrasing the modern philosopher Tassell "It's a vibe". December was undoubtedbly the most depressed I have ever been. On crutches, my comeback on two legs- particularly on the football field- shattered, and facing a year out of football, never to play for my team again was bad enough but upon our return from a fantastic stag weekend in Phuket, I slumped to a new low. A not inconsiderable number of friends were voicing their displeasure for Saigon, the recent parallel that I had drawn with Thailand, facing what could well be our last complete family Xmas plus a very sombre juncture in time all conspired to make mid December such a difficult time for me.
However, I made a couple of people share my baggage, and things began to look up. Things certainly took a positive spin at the Apollo Xmas party, and I looked forward to New Year with genuine lust for life. An intimate house party for those Apollo-ites who were working on the evening of the 31st was held at our house. Of course, we subsequently hit TNR (which had never smelled better) where, in a throwback to the first time I met Casey, everyone was having a good old bug-eyed time and the celebrations eventually wound up at... forgotten the name of the cafe upstairs on Do Quang Dao... when life for the Saigonese had begun yet another ordinary day. And for me, 2010 brought a fresh new beginning which enabled me to really embrace my final months in SE Asia.
Without getting too publicly soppy, Hana was (without being too literal) the one thing about Saigon I am taking away with me. And the best thing. I mean, I love my Phuket Spicy 7's winner's medal, don't get me wrong. Again, I'm at risk of harping on about the Raiders, but my piece on them has come and gone. Raiders are in my past and Hana is in my future. Wherever the hell that will take place!
#2 Saigon Raiders
Saigon Raiders could well dominate this list, predominantly because every Sunday up until I started breaking my leg and several occasions afterwards was a tremendously enjoyable parallel to a working week where I was putting myself in front of uninspiring students all for what was certainly one of the lowest ex-pat salaries in the city... especially when I was afforded the chance to become a first choice midfielder in a competitive 11's team for the first time since my reproductive system had kicked into gear. (Why I am rambling about my balls at this point I'm not quite sure...) However, tours were the highlights of my time with Saigon Raiders and those were not Saigon based memories, so I will omit those. I could name my record breaking goal after only 8 seconds against LDC. And for a shameless plug, I will. If you haven't heard of or were privileged enough to have seen that goal, then watch Tshabalala's goal for South Africa against Mexico and you will see a pretty close approximation of the only competitive goal of my Raiders career. Except mine was a sweeter strike since the ball was a few yards outside the box, and he’s probably a bit better with his left foot than I. (I went on to score a handful, but as Facebook shows, those were hardly on a par with the (ultimately meaningless) goal against LDC). We lost 2-1.
So what memory am I going for? Due to injuries, it’s been such a long time since I played seriously in Vietnam that I'm struggling here. This is the first of the ten memories I have written at length about and I have already chosen this as number 2 without having decided on a memory!
However Saigon Raiders 20th anniversary weekend was a suitably appropriate farewell for me, combining an awards night, the Champions league final and a challenge match made up of My Whites against Miquels Reds with around 30 Raiders past and present participating. Had I not picked up an award on the Saturday night and captained my team to a 5-1 victory against Miquel, then there's a chance I would have picked another memory. Not so.
If I never again turn out in the red and white then I will be astonished – Unless that is because Fraser succeeds in changing the kit colour to black and white stripes - I fully expect to feature for them once again in the future, most likely on tour in Thailand.
#3 Mariko’s announcement.
Mariko's announcement shortly after my leg break was something that will (or rather will not) live with me for a long time. I’m not airing my dirty laundry here so no comments please.
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