Bangkok’s soccer league for old men tried out the idea of everyone playing for their home country. After countless matches as the lone Yank among Brits, it was strange but fun to play on a team of (North) Americans.
Not that it was easy to fill the roster. Three of us from the States had to combine forces with three Canadians and a naturalized U.S. citizen who was born in Turkey, just to be able to reach the minimum number of players. Japan, by contrast, fielded three of the 18 teams. England and France had two apiece, and many other European countries were out in force.
But for those countries it’s not unusual for the teams to break down by nationality. During the regular vets’ league season most people end up sticking with their own kind. For whatever reason, us Americanos—maybe because we’re in short supply to begin with—have ended up shared around. Not that I mind playing for the British Club. I get to hear some different accents and to keep up with who’s on top of the English Premier League table.
Yesterday's team, unlike many of the British Club squads I’ve been part of, made a respectable showing in the final standings. A dynasty in the making?
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