Soccer at 7200

You know how sometimes an old dog, once unleashed in the park or campground, will take off with speed and joy not seen since its Puppychow years?

That was me last night on the soccer field. For an hour or two, my shin splints didn't bother me, my knee injury from the other night was gone, and I was back in youthful midfielder form. My centering passes from the wings weren't crisp, necessarily, but they were on-target. I could still defend a little. I could still set myself up for a beautiful give-and-go. I didn't get many strikes on goal, but I've never had a striker's killer mentality anyway so that was fine by me.

Sketchy day around here today. Ghana and Brazil this morning; France and Spain this afternoon, and we conference types don't have a whole lot to do except watch World Cup.