Movement as Medicine; Soccer as Doctor

Match day morning I awake feeling tired, sick, and sore.  My head is cloudy, and my body rejects the slow movements required to stand, move downstairs, and prepare for this game.

With my loosely packed gear, and my medicines, I depart for the hour long journey to the game site. Though I am not in a game-ready mindset and my body is too stiff  to move lucidly, it occurs to me that I have been here before and I have survived. This is what we call "the wall", and I am up against it.

The fall season is the busiest time of year for a soccer referee, and 2015 is no exception.  Coaching two teams, an Under 8 training group, training and scheduling referees for local games and teaching TaeKwonDo--my other passion- has left me with a scant few days remaining open.

It is on these days I take NISOA assignments and the schedule leaves me running ragged by week 5. Add to that a cyclical body breakdown--flu, cold, maybe fever-- and the fact that most meals are an afterthought, and my energy reserves are depleted by the end of September.

The thought of giving this game back to the Assignor, at this late date, is not even entertained.

Referees log many miles in the fall season, and as I drive to the game site, it occurs to me that in times past there is only one remedy for this feeling of ill everything, and that is to use Movement as Medicine and Soccer as my Doctor.


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 Training, Mechanics, and getting into the flow of the game has nullified my ailments, and the for the rest of this game I have some lucidity I could not display in the everyday world.

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But will this prove a remedy to the desire to stay inert?  Can the mental requirements of the work engage a different level of function than what appears an intractable mindset?

Within minutes of the kickoff, I will have a chance to perform or to fail, and though I don't know this at the time, I will be called upon to make a critical match decision very early in this match.

Tracking with the attack as Assistant Referee 1, I am sidestepping toward the goal line. The home team has brought the ball within the penalty area, and there is a target player behind and to the center of field.

The attacker releases the service only four yards from the touchline, and though there is a defender goalside, the target attacker steps in front at the last second to earn the first touch: a shot on goal.

I am level with the ball and looking through the play. I notice the target attacker's movements and anticipate the shot. Luckily, I stand at the goal line as the ball caroms off the crossbar and down into goal before rebounding back onto the field of play.

I take a mental "picture" of the ball totally across the goal line-- time for my body mechanics training to kick in.  Here is the procedure we use...

1) Raise flag  straight up in right hand.

2) Make eye contact with the referee.

3) Sprint up the touchline.

All mechanics work smoothly and the Referee crew teamwork is crisp; based on information I provide as the Assistant the Referee awards what will be the game winning goal.  Training, Mechanics, and getting into the flow of the game has nullified my ailments, and the for the rest of this game I have some lucidity I could not display in the everyday world.

This is a part of the work that doesn't feel like work to me. I love this game, and support the three teams on the field.  Home team, Visitor, and Referee crew come together like a thesis, antithesis, synthesis.

I revel in the respite of comfort sport brings me before the final whistle. I wish everyone had access to a flood of endorphins on a daily basis. We would be a healthier people in mind, body, and spirit.