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!
That's exactly how I played soccer at Culver! Since most of the the kids who were good at it were little South American or European kids, and I was a big fat American, when the ball was coming toward me (being controlled by a small kid) I would run straight at him screaming with my arms out. Invariably, the other kid would turn and run for his life, leaving the ball with me.
