5 new teammates.
4 hours of gym time.
3 compliments on my Dutch.
2 20-minute matches.
1 very good time!
Oh, but the injuries, the injuries... forgot about that lovely aspect of playing a contact sport with nine guys twice your size. First, I took a speeding ball smack in the cheek, resulting in two bruises (glad my head wasn't turned another inch to the left, or I would have taken it in the eye). Then someone's knee or ankle (not really sure which) dug deep into my left calf muscle, which immediately cramped or stretched or did SOMETHING which didn't (and doesn't) feel great. And then there were the 2-3 times that someone stepped on my left ankle (always on the left side!) and their sneaker sort of 'slid down' my leg onto my foot, scraping the skin off the ankle. Ouch.
And let's not even get into this one pick I set... the guy was about 8 inches taller and at least 60 pounds heavier, but being me, I set the pick anyway... and literally felt my feet leave the ground and myself fly through the air for a second before landing smack on my butt. Ouch. Got some great stares, though. LOL.
By the way, there's a very nice and cute guy on my team... (mental note: never let him see this site!) ...but no, no, I know, I have been warned, by many people, to stay away from the Dutch boys this time... so I shall do my best.
(Besides, he's 18... that's practically cradle-robbing.)
Off to do the homework I should have done this afternoon. Finally decided on a creative writing topic: a child's security blanket. We'll see how that develops.