I arrived at Lincoln Park's soccer field at 3:25 PM, five minutes early just like Coach Jones had demanded. The afternoon sun was still hot, but not as brutal as yesterday's heat. A light breeze was coming off Lake Michigan, making the conditions actually decent for soccer.
About forty guys were scattered around the field, stretching and juggling balls. I recognized the ten from my group yesterday, plus what looked like thirty others from the different tryout sessions. Everyone looked nervous but focused - this was it, the real test.
At exactly 3:30, Coach Jones blew his whistle and called everyone over. He was wearing the same bucket hat and cargo shorts from yesterday, but had swapped his running shoes for proper soccer cleats.
"Good morning to you all!" he called out as we jogged over and formed a semicircle around him.
"Good morning, Coach!" we all responded in unison.
Coach Jones looked around at the group with obvious satisfaction. "I'm pleased to see you're all on time. Punctuality is the first sign of respect, and respect is what separates good players from great ones."
He gestured toward the field behind him. "The match will begin shortly. I've grouped you into two teams that will face off - this will be a proper eleven versus eleven scrimmage that will last sixty minutes. No substitutions except for injury, so pace yourselves accordingly."
My stomach jumped with nervous energy. Sixty minutes of game time to prove I still belonged on a soccer field.
"I've separated you into Yellow Team and Blue Team," Coach Jones continued, pulling out his clipboard. "We'll be playing a 4-4-2 Diamond formation for both sides. For those of you who might be rusty on tactical formations, let me break it down."
He walked over to the track that bordered the field and started laying out the formation using chalk he'd pulled from one of his many cargo short pockets.
"Each team will have one goalkeeper," he said, drawing a single mark at the back. "One right back and one left back on the flanks. Two center backs in the middle of defense - that's your backbone, gentlemen."
He continued drawing the formation on the track surface. "One defensive midfielder sitting in front of the back line - this player breaks up attacks and distributes the ball. One attacking midfielder at the top of the diamond - this is your creative player who connects midfield to attack."
The formation was taking shape on the track like a tactical diagram. "One left winger and one right winger to provide width and pace. And two forwards up top to finish the chances your midfield creates."
He stepped back to admire his chalk formation. "Each team will also have two substitutes in case of injury. This is a 4-4-2 Diamond, people - it requires discipline, positioning, and intelligence. If you don't know where you're supposed to be, you'll look lost out there."
Coach Jones capped his chalk and looked around at all of us. "The beautiful game is about more than individual skill. It's about how eleven players move as one unit. Today, I want to see who understands that concept."
He pulled out two mesh bags from behind his equipment pile and started reading from his clipboard.
"Yellow Team lineup:" he called out, handing out yellow mesh bibs.
YELLOW TEAM
Goalkeeper: Kevin Murphy
Right Back: Tyler Brooks
Left Back: Alex Washington
Center Back: David Chen, Miguel Santos
Defensive Midfielder: Carlos Mendez
Attacking Midfielder: Marcus Coleman
Left Winger: Roberto Silva
Right Winger: Jamal Johnson
Forward: Jesus Morales, Danny Rodriguez
Substitutes: Tony Martinez, James Walker
"Blue Team lineup:" he continued, switching to blue bibs.
BLUE TEAM
Goalkeeper: Andre Thompson
Right Back: Luis Hernandez
Left Back: Marcus Williams
Center Back: Antonio Garcia, Jerome Washington
Defensive Midfielder: Patrick O'Connor
Attacking Midfielder: Jason Kim
Left Winger: Michael Johnson
Right Winger: Xavier Davis
Forward: Demetrius Brown, Ryan Mitchell
Substitutes: Isaiah Thomas, Eric Rodriguez
I felt a surge of excitement mixed with pressure as I heard my name called for attacking midfielder on the Yellow Team. That was a key position - the creative hub that connected defense to attack. Coach Jones was giving me a chance to show what I could do in one of the most important spots on the field.
"Yellow Team and Blue Team - come collect your bibs so we know who's who," Coach Jones announced. "And remember, gentlemen - this isn't about showing off with fancy tricks. This is about showing me you can play intelligent, disciplined soccer for sixty straight minutes."
The nervous energy in the group was palpable as guys started moving toward Coach Jones to get their colored practice jerseys. This was it - time to find out if three years away from organized soccer had cost me everything, or if some things really never left you.
Jesus walked up next to me as we headed toward the bibs. "Attacking mid, huh? No pressure."
"Been ready since yesterday," I said, but my heart was pounding.
"Good. Because I got a feeling this is gonna separate the real players from the wannabes real quick."
As I pulled the yellow bib over my head, I looked around at my teammates. Jesus up front, Carlos in defensive mid, solid players throughout the lineup. But the Blue Team looked just as strong.
Coach Jones was calling out final instructions. "When I call your name, grab your bib and remember your position. We start in ten minutes, so use that time to get familiar with your teammates and your formation."
Ten minutes to prove that Marcus Coleman could still play the beautiful game.