"You May Delay But Time Will Not" Benjamin Franklin

FC77 Older Nicks Spring 2026

In the mid-July summer of 2010 I thought that I should try writing a blog which I understood to be an online form of essaying.  I also thought that I would focus my writing on my experience as a soccer fan and amateur soccer player.  In the mid 70s when I was first introduced to 'the game' via the arrival of the the NASL Portland Timbers in our town,  I was working as a freelance writer on local sports and culture topics.  I managed to convince Lou Gauthier,  publisher and editor of Soccer Corner to offer me press credentials,  soccer story assignments and small amounts of money for each article he published.  The press credentials were a big incentive.  With my paper 'game pass' strung round my neck,  I could venture into the vast dark caverns below the Civic Stadium stands to ask questions in the team dressing rooms.  And could also climb the narrow stair to the high press box suspended under the west grandstand roof. Refreshments were provided which was a welcome perk.  And I was included in the game discussions with "real journalists" like The Big O's John Polis.  And press from opposing town papers or even occasional Sports Illustrated level scribblers.  The press credentials covered me to interview opposing clubs, college coaches and interesting folk in the broader soccer world.  My favorite interview back then was an hour or so spent with Robbie Rensenbrink, one of the stars of the "clockwork orange" Dutch national team in 1974.  He was a  very gracious and pragmatic interviewee.  He recognized that his knees were not going to last long and he was grateful to be in Portland with the opportunity to play.   

 

In the summer of 1977,  I was so taken with the game that I turned out for a 'recreational' league with scores of other men.  A core group of us enjoyed the summer experience so much that we stayed together as a team for the fall men's league.  I was not naturally athletic, but I was enthusiastic and enjoyed being on the team.  By 2010 I had been playing soccer for more than 30 years with team mates who had become staunch friends.  My social life was deeply entangled with my soccer life.  I remember reflecting with surprise that I was a 60 year old soccer junkie--still playing in league games on my Old Nicks team and kicking the ball around at weekly practices, euphemism for an hour of pickup play followed by an hour or so of beer drinking, reminiscing and tale telling.  

 

We are now passing through June 2026. I came home at noon today from a 'kickaround' at a cross town field with fourteen other older adults. Several of them are players I've teamed up with or played against since those early soccer days. Three of them were women, also in my age group, who've played for as many decades as I have. In Portland there are at least three of these 'old guys' sessions each week. It's not unusual for enough players to show up that we have three games of 10 v 10 played with small goals and no keepers. In this past year, we began an 'unofficial' O70 division. The fields are about 3/4 full size, 9 players on the field, 40 minute halves. Rules formulated through a democratic process to limit physical play and the risk of injury. The division generally follows the pattern of the formal soccer district--spring season of ten games and fall season of ten games.

I marveling that I am 76 years old and still playing.  And still playing in the company of my peers, though some of them are no longer with us.  I was taken by the Benjamin Franklin quote.  I am deeply grateful that I did not delay to make my life reflective of things I believe are important.  An active life and strong friendships are gifts.  I don't know when I'll 'hang up my cleats' but I am not waiting for it to happen.