We drive a good hour to soccer fields north of the city. We are surrounded by red mountains, it's gorgeous. We wait and watch games for about 3 hours before our first game. Players are of all sizes and shapes and ages. What a site, fit players, players with paunches, young-looking, old-looking, dreadlocks, bald, everything. We play our first game, and lose 4-1, but what a thrill to play. We all know what to do, the rules are age-old. In some ways, it's all a semblance of normalcy in a world which so often is not.
We wait a couple hours between games, and then play our second, also a loss. Okay, time to really dig deep and really accept that openness to losing. I do a body scan to assess for damage, only a knee scraped on the artificial turf, that's why I usually play in sweat pants when I play on turf. Note to self: Sweats tomorrow.
In the evening, I go out with Tim Sullivan and his brother-in-law Troy who has joined us from Colorado. We walk down the strip. What a neon smorgasbord of eros and pathos. We have dinner at a steakhouse in the Bellagio Hotel, I think I'm the only vegetarian for several states around here. I find a Tortellini yam thing that's great, and finally find a beer I've been looking for by the New Belgian brewery (Fort Collins, CO), which I've heard makes great beer and has a great commitment to the environment.
I'm totally beat, and asleep by 9. Also probably the only person asleep by 9 for several states around. Zzz.
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