When I joined my soccer team 5 years ago, I got a new pair of soccer shoes... you may refer to them as cleats, or as those on the Continent do: boots. Call them what you will, they're pretty worn out. So worn out, in fact, that after the rainy game last week, I wore a hole through the toe of my right one. The hole 1st became apparent at the kids' practice the other day. The problem is that while I've been planning on getting new ones for some time now, I thought I could do it over the winter, between seasons. Decent boots cost a pretty penny, & I hadn't really budgeted for them at the moment. That said, the kids' practice went well, & my daughter scored a goal & got 2 assists in her subsequent game. My son is a bit pissed about the situation now though, so hopefully he can get one this weekend in their final game.Although the practice went well, I was a bit worried about my game this evening so I did what every broke soccer player has done since WWII... grabbed some Duct Tape. My running wasn't affected by the hole (how could it be? I'm slow as fuck anyway), but my kicking abilities (which have always been above average) were definitely going to be affected. After taping the toe of the old cleats up, they not only survived the game, but I got my duck as it were. (For those of you who aren't addicted to European Soccer, "getting ones duck" is the term used when someone scores her or his 1st goal of the season). And a sweet, sweet goal it was! At the end of the 3rd quarter, I mentioned that the other team's defense seemed confused when our defenders made attacking runs through the mid-field. Appropriately enough, I ended up playing center-back for the last 10 minutes. The other team scored a goal due to our goalie's lack of experience (putting us behind 2-1), & after the subsequent kick-off, they then had a goal kick. Having touched the ball all of about 5 times so far throughout the game, & having nearly missed about 10 times last week, I decided this was the time I really needed to do something good. The goal kick came right up the center & I chested it down to Roger, 1 of our strikers. I then proceeded to continue my sweet, sweet run towards the goal as Roger played it back to me. After a couple touches, I shot, but the goalie made the initial save. I stuck w/ it, however, & got around him w/ the rebound before slotting it into the net w/ an easy touch. Best of all, my kids were there to witness it. Of course, they weren't paying attention & missed it, but at least they were there. At this point, you may be wondering how this leads to the ritualization of Duct Taping. Of course, baseball players are known for their rituals, & sports fans do all sorts of fucked up shit in attempts to relive some fluke from weeks or even years before. Well, you can bet your bottom dollar that from now on, I'll never take to the field w/o a little Duct Tape on my boots.