So, the office, right? They decided we all needed a bit of “team building.” My eyes usually glaze over when I hear that phrase. Usually means some dry sandwiches and a talk about synergy that goes in one ear and out the other. But this time, someone piped up with “bubble soccer.” Okay, I thought, could be different. Little did I know it was less soccer and more, well, “bubble bull soccer” as I’ve come to call it.
First off, getting into those giant inflatable bubbles. What a production. You kind of awkwardly shimmy and squeeze your way in, and then they strap you in like you’re about to be shot out of a cannon. And let me tell you, it gets hot in there. Fast. Like, five minutes in, and you’re already feeling like a steamed dumpling. Your vision’s all warped too, looking out through that plastic. Everything’s a bit wobbly and distorted.
Then the whistle blew for the “game” to start. Game of soccer? Don’t make me laugh. It was more like human bumper cars, but with less control and more falling. The actual soccer ball seemed like an optional extra, something that occasionally got kicked by accident. The main event was just people, encased in these giant bubbles, running – or attempting to run – full tilt into each other. You’d line someone up, take a few lumbering steps, and then BAM! You’d send them flying, or more often, you’d both go tumbling head over heels. It was pure chaos.
And getting up? Forget about it. Once you were down, you were like an overturned beetle, legs waving in the air, trying to rock yourself back onto your feet. Most of the time, someone else would just bump into you again before you even got halfway up. I saw people just giving up and rolling around. I’m pretty sure I spent a good five minutes on my back, just watching the sky spin, after a particularly enthusiastic “tackle” from Brenda from accounts. Brenda! Who knew she had it in her?
That’s where the “bull” part of “bubble bull soccer” really came into its own. There was no strategy, no finesse, just pure, unadulterated charging. People were just thumping into each other with wild abandon. It wasn’t about scoring goals; it was about the collision. The bigger the bounce, the louder the cheer from the sidelines. I tried to play actual soccer for a bit, you know, dribble the ball. Lasted about ten seconds before I was sent spinning into next week. After that, I pretty much gave up on the “soccer” bit and just focused on staying upright, which was a full-time job.
By the end of it, everyone was drenched in sweat, completely knackered, and sporting a collection of mystery aches. Team building? Well, I suppose we all suffered together, so maybe that counts for something. There was a lot of groaning and comparing of how much various body parts hurt. My neck was sore for two days straight. Two days!
So, would I recommend bubble bull soccer? If you like the idea of being a human pinball and don’t mind feeling like you’ve been mildly beaten up afterwards, then sure, go for it. It was funny, in a slapstick kind of way, for a little while. But if you’re actually looking to play a game of soccer, this isn’t it. Not even close. It’s an experience, I’ll give it that. Just make sure you’ve got a good chiropractor on speed dial. Me? I think I’ll stick to watching sports from the safety of my couch from now on.