40 degrees. Friends, fires and the hell in the cell match. Chronicle of a short polish break.
Playing football after two days of swimming and eating and doing nothing is always a tough task.
But this was a special match, commemorating 15 years of rivalry between Grottger and Archanioly. Special shirts were made, and special rules applied for it.
I didn't bother read all the emails that Dominik sent me over the weeks, so I thought that the match would take place on the football field, like it always had, and I brought my football shoes.
I wasn't expecting a hell in the cell match.
Instead of playing on the grass (sand) field, we played on a new structure erected few months ago.
Basically a 5 a side field with a metallic cage all around. The supporters where pressing on the structure, and with the hot weather, everything seemed to conjure against my initial idea of a nice and relaxing match.
I didn't have suitable shoes for playing on that surface, so I recycled my old snickers.
I'm a plyer who likes to run and tackle and on a 5 a side pitch I can't really do it. Not my kind of sport.
The match was nervous and cruel. After less than 20 minutes, we lost Marcin, one of our best (best=fittest) players when he accidentally stumped on something and broke his ankle. Dude, I know the pain.
We didn't even realize he was gone because he left the cage jumping on one leg until he couldn't stand the pain no more. Someone (a girl) screamed after discovering the dimension of his ankle and the match was suspended 10 minutes, in time to get to him to the first car to the hospital.
Shocked by the injury we kept playing, and after going down two goals, we managed to level in the second half. They did have more chances to score goals, and 10 minutes before the final whistle they did. We lost our 15th anniversary match.
Shit happens (this is my mantra). It just sad that such a great weekend was spoiled by an injury and a loss.
But this is life, and this is football. They deserved to win. (See you French people? I can accept defeat).
We visited Marcin and Ula for one last goodbye before going back home. Marcin had his broken ankle in a cast, but still a smile on his face. After all, he really enjoyed the past 48 hours.
The next morning, after a quick goodbye with my grandparents, Dominik gave me a lift to the airport, where I say goodbye to Poznan, Poland, one more time in my life.