Patrick McGraw

And then the strangest feeling, I wanted to play.

So I bought a soccer ball.

Instinctively, I made soccer a solo sport.

I used to go down to the garage of my building early in the morning when no one could see me to kick the ball around.

So at this point, I'm still shy, hardly butch, and incredibly insecure.

And now to boot, I discover I have no coordination and I flinch.

Even just kicking the ball against the wall, so my own kick.

As they came back to me, I flinched.

Meanwhile, I had started going to the Portland Timbers soccer matches, and during one game, after a spectacular goal, I turned to the stranger next to me to give him a high five.

I had never initiated a high five in my life.

I took that as a sign that I was ready to join a team.

So I set about to find a club that would welcome me as I am, a middle-aged man, overweight, who's never played soccer and flinches when the ball comes towards him.

So I decided on the Netwreppers, an inclusive soccer club, because, one, they were unlikely to call me a faggot.

And two, their website said that they welcomed everyone of all abilities.

So I secretly scouted them out first, casually riding my bike past one of their practices.

Men and women of all ages were playing, but they all looked too good.

So I emailed the team asking if they really welcomed everyone, even beginners who had never played.

Instantly, I got messages back to reassure me that they did.

So with butterflies in my stomach, I went to my first practice.

One of the players, hearing that I had never played before, took me aside to show me some of the very basics before we joined everyone else in the drills.