In Soccer, Passion Is the Only Word That Matters

It was a tough choice to make, but I try to never look back on big decisions that affect my life. I could continue to officiate youth club games and matches in the National Professional Soccer League, or I could live in beautiful Key West, Florida, not knowing what I would do for work.

I chose Key West and left soccer behind, disconnecting myself with the sport I loved. After a year it was clear that I could not continue without being involved in the game.

There was only one patch of land where soccer could be played, and the elementary school had full-sized goals. I noticed that every night there were adults kicking the ball around, and upon further inspection each night had a different nationality playing.

There was no organized adult league, and all they had to look forward to was a once a week scrimmage among their fellow countrymen.

I knew what had to be done. I would create a soccer league so people could continue and enjoy their passion for the game. I walked down to the Hog's Breath Saloon (it's where I got some of my best ideas) to have a drink and formulate my plan.

The next night I went to the soccer field and approached some of the Haitians who had just finished a 10 on 10 game. I told them there was a new league coming into town and asked if they wanted to join. They said they wanted in, and I took down a few phone numbers. The next night I met with the Czechs, and it went on and on.

Within 10 days I had eight teams committed to what I called the K-League, and I charged every team $200 to play.

The only referees in Key West worked the high school games, and not to say anything bad, but they would be hard pressed to adapt to the speed and intensity of the adults. What to do? I would officiate the games by myself. I had worked alone in adult leagues in Milwaukee, and I didn't anticipate any problems.

There would be no offside rule, and games would consist of two 30-minute halves. Little did the players know that the entire league was me, my cell phone, and my briefcase.

The games would be held on Sunday, and officiating four in a row would test my mental and physical fitness, but I felt I was up to the challenge. We would start at noon on purpose because I wanted the players to understand that the oppressive heat and humidity was all part of survival of the fittest in the K-League.

We had the Argentines, the Czechs, Haitians, and the U.S. Coast Guard to name a few. The English team did not show up for their game the day after St. Patrick's Day and had to forfeit. They were fined a case of beer before being allowed back into the league.

I had the results printed in the paper, the crowds grew bigger each week, and my running fitness was excellent.

The playoffs began, and it came down to Argentina vs. Czech Republic in the final, the adult championship of the Florida Keys. A gathering of 2,000 people descended on the small bleachers and surrounded the field.

The big game would be a full 90 minutes, and we would play "golden goal" if tied. The teams looked very sharp as they had bought World Cup jerseys of their respective countries.

Argentina won 2-1, in an upset, with a stunning goal in overtime to claim the K-League title. As I handed them the t-shirts and trophy I had made up for the winners, I started crying as I watched them pose for a team picture that would go in the local paper.

People were singing, families were hugging each other, and I felt I had accomplished my mission of providing an outlet for people to continue their passion for soccer.

There would be other 11-week sessions, but that first one was very special. About a year later the soccer league was disbanded when a new school was built on the field.

When I think of the world game, passion is the only word that matters.

"Hey, have any of you guys ever played beach soccer?"