Soccer practice is not for journalists

I went to the fair. Not the one up in Kalispell, since there's a fair going on right here in Polson for about two weeks as the Polson High School soccer team gets ready for the regular season to start.

You see, head coach Jess Kittle has named his special conditioning practices at Linderman Elementary the "County Fair" because every conditioning station is a different ride, so to speak.

If you ask me, it's a different ride of human suffering. Being the inquisitive journalist that I am, I couldn't turn up such a uniquely named practice after he extended the opportunity for me to try it out with the team last Monday.

It was at this point that I made several mistakes. One, I signed up for one of the most painful endeavors of my adult life and I can only imagine Stephen Kings "The Long Walk" being a more traumatizing experience. Two, I ate yogurt before the practice at 6:30 a.m. to try and get a smidge of energy and ended up burping watermelon taste in my mouth the entire practice as my stomach did the Macarena.

After surviving one session of the "County Fair," I can say that the rest of the Northwest A conference is screwed. Sorry guys, but any individual that can make it through that black hole of energy and hope can laugh off any normal challenging thing like "games" and "scoring goals" as mere child's play.

Before the practice had even started, a new player showed up and Kittle had him run a few laps will everyone was on a water break. The kid immediately lept out to a very respectable pace that I probably couldn't reach on a bicycle.

"Whoah, that kid's going too fast. He doesn't know what he's getting into" some of the teammates mused as they watched him burn around the corners of the soccer field.

Kittle first introduced me to the team, saying that sometimes journalists like to imbed themselves with the troops before going to war. One of the players said something to the effect that I'll probably wish I was at war after starting the practice.

He was right. I was winded during warm-ups. My chest already started to tighten up as they didn't even let me take breaks between the high knee drills. My body reminded me that "hey buddy, guess what happens when you have the fitness regime of Jabba the Hutt?"

I couldn't kick a soccer ball to save my life and there were certain drills that nearly caused my heart to drop quicker than the U.S. economy. Kittle had aptly named one of the drills "The Death Star."

Let's just say it was no moon. Nor was it a space station. It was just part of the cruelest conditioning regime where you would get a scant few seconds to rest before the drill at each station. Once Kittle said go, you would then proceed to perform some sort of running or jumping activity.

One of the team drills, lovingly called "the fun one" was ironically named. It was not fun. It wasn't enjoyable. It wasn't even boring, which I would have taken with open arms. It was a horrible combination of running around the far goal at the field coming back into place as a team and performing a series of quick feet, darting left and right and then diving to the ground.

Then they made us do pushups. Sweet Josephine.

Well they made the soccer team do push-ups. I just laid there and hysterically cried. I'm sure it earned the respect of the entire team.

"You know the great thing about the County Fair?" Kittle asked his team during practice. "Every ride is free!"

I'm pretty sure I did the practice about ten years too late but it was good to see all the players basically put it all on the line so they could represent Polson in a good light.

I, on the other hand, probably embarrassed the city to the point where they'll have to ask for some sort of emergency funding or something. During one of the team runs, I think I was wheezing more than a tobacco commercial stereotype.

Windbag journalists aside, I'd just like to let everyone know that these kids work hard for their school and for their pride and it's something we should all be proud about and support. You can tell they enjoy being challenged and asked to push themselves which is a rare quality these days.

Now if you will excuse me, I'm going to have to go sit in a vat of ice.