My dad was a very good soccer player in the '70s. I always hated it. He wouldn't let me join rugby so I started playing soccer. My team was pretty good and as a right back I'd sit down on the field and chill out for minutes at a time, driving the trainer nuts. My reaction was like "hey, the ball isn't coming back here any time soon, so what's your problem!" The up side was running at the strikers with the look of a madman on my face (think "Braveheart", but without the blue paint), in the hopes of intimidating them into making dumb butt mistakes. I still smile when I think back to those "moments of glory" LOL!
Naturally I got kicked off and all was well from then on.

Not all Dutchmen are soccer fans either! I also prefer ice hockey!