Yellow Card and Mr. X

It was about 15 minutes into the game when the referee blew his whistle to stop the game. As I was looking around trying to get an idea of why the sudden stoppage of the game, I saw a player (from the other team) on the grass gasping for air. I wasn’t sure if someone had hit him, or a ball got the best of him, but either way the dude was struggling. We formed a circle around him asking him if he was ok, and I suggested that we carry him off the field, that way he would get the rest needs and we can get playing again (especially when considering that there is no stoppage time).

No one listened to me and we ended up wasting 5 minutes waiting for the guy to catch his breath. I will call that guy Mr. X for the rest of the post.

The first half ended and the second half started. The other team seemed to have this great ability to fall really easily, giving them lots of fouls. Meanwhile, whenever one of us had the ball, they had no problems grabbing our jerseys, and slipping the odd push here and there. That got me a bit worked up and I thought “we have 20 minutes left, we’re tied, and we need to win this game” so I got this sudden surge of energy and I was chasing every ball and going in hard whenever possible.

On one occasion Mr. X got the ball passed to him, and as he was he about to clear the ball from his half, I rushed him and blocked his shot. When I put my foot there to block his shot, I managed to bump the ball away slightly, causing Mr. X to kick the bottom of my foot as hard as he could. The instant after the block I started to run towards the rolling ball, when the referee blew the whistle again. I stopped to hear Mr. X screaming and crying on the grass, rolling around while grabbing what seemed to be a broken ankle. Meanwhile the referee asked for my name, gave me a yellow a card, and told me to leave the field (in rec. soccer a yellow card forces you to take a 2 minute timeout).

Mr. X was rolling and screaming on the grass for a good 10 minutes before he was carried off the field. Meanwhile, I was feeling pretty bad for hurting the guy, especially since I had no intentions to do so. But after talking to my team mates, and recalling the tackle, I came to the conclusion that Mr. X is more like Mrs. X. In other words, the guy is a sissy (ya3ni bil 3arabi 6an6).

Thanks to the 15 or so minutes Mrs. X wasted due to injury time I wasn’t able to get back on the field. After the game I wanted to go and check up on him, but I was afraid he would start crying.

And in case you are wondering, Mr. X didn’t break anything. The guy was limping slightly after the game, which is quite normal after a soccer game.

About the image:
An accurate depiction of the moment right before the tackle. Please notice the lines trailing behind me, indicating my quick and graceful movements :| And in case you're wondering, yes I did take art in highschool. Sometimes I think I should have stuck with fine arts...