On a soccer field in Montreal, one man had World Cup excitement coursing through his veins. The man, a corporate executive in his early 30s, was standing near the opposing team’s goal when the ball came soaring through the air toward him. Normally not the type to try anything fancy (like most of the players in his league), the man hurled himself into a bicycle kick, a move made famous by Pele.
“I guess he just felt the need to do it,” says Albert Zbily, president of the Canadian Corporate Soccer League, who was watching the game two weeks ago. “He jumped up, scissor kicked the ball and it just went nowhere.” He hit the ground so hard, Mr. Zbily thought he might have to call in the physiotherapist from the sidelines.
With World Cup excitement having reached fever pitch, players in this league and others across Canada are amping up their games. They are trying new moves, playing with more determination and even giving the referees an earful over calls that would normally not be disputed. Even the most casual players are embracing their inner superstars, mimicking what they see on TV in an attempt to elevate their play to the level of the biggest tournament on the globe.
“People are kind of losing it,” Mr. Zbily says. One of the 36 teams in the Canadian Corporate Soccer League has billed itself Bafana Bafana, the name of South Africa’s national team, and shows up for games in the team’s jersey, he says.
The Toronto Sport and Social Club, home to 275 soccer teams, even staged a World Cup of its own, with 32 teams battling it out for glory as the rest of the city was mired in the G20 chaos. Teams were selected on a first-come, first-served basis, as was the choice of country each team wanted to represent. The one-day tournament saw plenty of enthusiastic play.
“Some people are a little bit inspired by watching some of the games on TV,” says Rob Davies, director of operations at the TSSC. “They’re trying new moves and trying to elevate their games to the next level.”
Of course, some players wanted the best of both worlds. The England team in the mock tournament brought a television in order to watch World Cup games on the sidelines.
“They had it somehow hooked up to their car,” Mr. Davies says.
Jason Savoie Young was captain of the mock New Zealand team. “I’m a soccer fiend,” the 34-year-old engineer says.
He’s not the only one these days.
“At the tournie, it was crazy,” he says. “You could definitely feel there was a lot more passion in the air.” Even in regular league play, Mr. Savoie Young says, people are running faster to get that extra edge on their opponents and you can see “a couple more ‘step overs’ here and there,” he says of the dribbling move meant to fake out opponents.
All that passion on the pitch has driven more players into confrontations with referees than usual in the Canadian Corporate Soccer League, says Mr. Zbily, who is also a referee in the league.
“They’re more aggressive, that’s for sure,” he says. “They’re taking more chances, they’re slide tackling much more aggressively.” When he recently gave a red card to a player for making a slide tackle from behind, the player exploded on Mr. Zbily. “His first reaction was, ‘Who do you think you are, a ref at the World Cup?’ ”
People are being carded all over the place, Mr. Zbily says. “In the five years [since the league was launched] I’ve never seen so many sanctions given out to players for dissent or just disrespect.”
There aren’t many sanctions being doled out – the self-policing policy keeps people mellow – at the games played through Urban Rec, home to about 120 co-ed soccer teams in Vancouver, but there is a noticeable World Cup effect, says Chris McNally, one of the managers at Urban Rec.
“There’s a bit more intensity,” he says. “We had a bit of an issue where a Scottish guy got in the face of an Irish guy in one of our games just the other day. It’s not something that typically happens in our group. But there’s that bit of added energy, I guess, they’re playing for their country now.”
“After the first game I was just getting people left, right and centre,” Mr. Zbily says. “One guy who is 48 years old asked me, ‘I haven’t played in 20 years, but do you think you could fit me in?’ ”
At the TSSC, membership this summer is up 10 per cent from a year earlier, Mr. Davies says.
“Certainly in the last few weeks there’s been an increase in people saying, ‘Hey, I’ve been watching it on TV and I want to play.’ ”
