Okahu Finals day

D-day.

We came in to the quarters as underdogs against a team with an impressive record - Mean Mount Mean. Whatever the hell that means anyway. This was a young team, kids high on candyfloss and still growing on cheerios. One was singing songs just at the start to beam his ego out onto the field, but he could have been reciting his ABC's for all we care. We weren't there to give these teens an encouraging word about their hairstyles or their spelling abilities. We were there to throw off their confidence.

We shut his singing up in the first passage of the game through an early try, with the help of a very strict ref who was not going take any talking back. This ref was so serious, he sent Nick L off the field for yelling the swear word "Mine!" too loudly and one of their guys too later in the game.

It was a see-saw affair as we opened up the scoring. They'd keep matching us back somehow. Possibly our defence was a bit leakier than normal, can't blame us as we aren't all that interested in pedophilia anyway. Yet we played out of our skins. Sure, bits went wrong, but we handled shooters better than we have ever done and we controlled the pace of the game. Dean played out of his skin today. He scored the first, set up the second and knocked in the third when they rushed him too quickly. He also got involved in the fourth when we drove through the middle.

But they leveled the game at the end, 4-4. Time for dropoff.

Annoyingly enough, they didn't actually drop-off and we had play the first bit out one man short. Amidst our confusion they scooped through Dean who probably could have cornered harder and scored through several unmarked men. We were unable to score on our set and thus lost this tight game.

In the season finale we didn't quite get where we wanted to. But we played well - all of us. We can hold our heads high and now focus on the Tamaki comp and the impending Easter one too. As we build a bridge and get over this, we'll get even better.

Last night I went back home and grieved the final hour of a friend's life which ended in her hospital that very day. I immediately stopped faulting my every mistake or missed opportunity in the quarter final. The very frailty of human life is a stark reminder that the mistakes on our religious sports fields are but a drop of vapour in the wind. What matters matters, and what doesn't doesn't, if you get what I mean. No matter the result of our game that day it wouldn't have changed any facts of life - that breathing is a blessing and sport is but a hobby.