This week the Legends were ready to take on the men’s lacrosse team, a competition that I had been trash talking the entire year. Lacrosse is the only sport I ever played competitively, and I looked forward to matching up against the Big Green’s best. I was also looking forward to seeing Austin get out on the lacrosse field and seeing what he would do with a six foot pole in his hands.
We lined up a friendly competition against Jeff Perkins ’14, scheduled to take place Thursday after 2As. It was one of the nicest days we have had this past week and I couldn’t wait to get out and strap on the pads again. The bad news was that Austin had to go to New York to do “real world things” (look for an apartment), so he couldn’t make it. I felt bad for him, but I couldn’t let that screw up my mojo.
Jeff is from Texas, I am from Virginia. Texas does a lot of things really well, like barbecue, country music and mechanical bull riding, but lacrosse isn’t necessarily on that list. Virginia, on the other hand, is known for its lacrosse — just look at powerhouse University of Virginia. Past that, the top high schools play at a high level, with lots of solid Division I recruits. Ipso facto, I was in a great position to beat Jeff. Never before a Legends competition had my confidence been so high.
We got out to the field that Thursday afternoon and began talking about what sort of competition we wanted to try. We decided one-on-ones to the goal would be a good start, which made sense because it was a natural match up. Jeff plays at attack for the lacrosse team, and in high school (and during the occasional club lax game) I played close defense. Having lined up against guys who went on to play at UVA and other Division I schools, I felt pretty good about my chances.
We took the first one-on-one from behind the goal. Jeff dodged in on me, broke my cushion, and could then sweep around as I struggled to backpedal and get in a good check on him. He came around top and put it right in the net. We kept starting the one-on-ones in various places around the field, until something different happened. I won one. Jeff tried dodging around me then moving to get a clear shot, but as he did I got my stick on his and checked the ball out of his stick, a huge moral victory for me. Also, let’s be clear here, the offense had the advantage in these one-on-ones — there was no help coming from another defenseman with a slide, and I had no goalie in the cage to stop the shots. Taking those two factors into account, a one for seven win rate sounded almost like a victory.
After the one-on-ones, we decided to do face-offs and ground balls, and while I won’t trouble you with the details of the face off competition (I lost all of them), I’ll let you know how the grounders went. Basically we had the ball rolled out to us and then fought for it mostly legally, until one had possession. The fact that my stick is three feet longer than Jeff’s has nothing to do with the fact that we split the first four, and as we lined up for the fifth and deciding grounder, I could almost taste victory (I did have double bubble in my mouth). I got the jump on Jeff as I lunged for the ball, but as I turned to pick it up — WHAM. Jeff blew me back with a solid hit to my shoulder, scooping the ball with ease and dashing my hopes of victory.
With Austin back in town next week and what hopes to be better weather ahead, the legends look to take their talents to the track, and try our luck at the 100- and 200-meter hurdles (Still not sure if I can even jump that high). Until then, we will keep laying our bodies on the line as we strive to reach athletic excellence, or at least somewhere near it.
