As I watched from the sidelines, he ran down the right side towards the goal. As the defense approached him, he gently dropped off the ball in the center to his teammate standing there. A shot! It went above the goal post. A sigh echoed from all around me. It was a brilliant pass and the striker messed it up. He sighed himself, then smiled and started limping back towards the midfield. In the first half of the game, he was tackled badly and he injured his left knee and shin. Remembering my own injuries, I could imagine the pain that he was bearing while running across the field. At times when the ball would be passed to him, he would gingerly limp towards it, trying to hide his pain and at the same time desperately trying to get the ball before the opponent gets it. His captain, their central defender shouted at him to get off the field but he wouldn’t. His team needed him. He needed this game and he wanted to play. He wanted to win, he wanted to enjoy the game and most of all, he wanted to give it all; to not give up. As another ball glided towards him, he said to himself, “You have the entire weekend to rest!! Start running!”.
As the ball glided towards him, his mind commanded his body to move forward to take it. As he lifted his right leg to run, excruciating pain coursed through his body. It was as if he was struck by lightning. His legs refused to move but his eyes were still on the ball as it was inching towards him. His eyes then shifted towards his captain’s face. He understood the message his captain relayed to him through that one gaze, “ I want you to rest! I don’t want to see you in pain anymore! I want you to pass the ball to the forward!!!”. It was a Thursday. He remembered the bourbons he ate in the morning and smiled. He could take a leave tomorrow and rest over the weekend. The pain was already unbearable, no harm in bearing it for 5 more minutes. As the ball came to his feet, he hesitated for a moment. The defender was charging towards him. As the defender reached him, he feinted a right. A surge of pain ran through his leg but he immediately moved left with the ball leaving the defender behind. He could see the two strikers were moving towards the goal. With as much force he could muster, he kicked the ball to the left forward. As his vision dimmed he saw the left forward take a powerful kick, the ball moving directly towards the keeper, who had predicted the shot. As the keeper caught the ball, another loud sigh echoed through the ground. Once again he smiled and started limping back to the midfield.
I saw the end whistle blow. It was a win for his team. Our slow limping friend had passed yet another ball and this time it found its rightful home, the opponents goal. As he limped passed me, I said, “Good Game!!!”. He looked up to me, smiled and replied, “Yea, thoroughly enjoyed it. Come to watch us in the finals!!”.
As the ball glided towards him, his mind commanded his body to move forward to take it. As he lifted his right leg to run, excruciating pain coursed through his body. It was as if he was struck by lightning. His legs refused to move but his eyes were still on the ball as it was inching towards him. His eyes then shifted towards his captain’s face. He understood the message his captain relayed to him through that one gaze, “ I want you to rest! I don’t want to see you in pain anymore! I want you to pass the ball to the forward!!!”. It was a Thursday. He remembered the bourbons he ate in the morning and smiled. He could take a leave tomorrow and rest over the weekend. The pain was already unbearable, no harm in bearing it for 5 more minutes. As the ball came to his feet, he hesitated for a moment. The defender was charging towards him. As the defender reached him, he feinted a right. A surge of pain ran through his leg but he immediately moved left with the ball leaving the defender behind. He could see the two strikers were moving towards the goal. With as much force he could muster, he kicked the ball to the left forward. As his vision dimmed he saw the left forward take a powerful kick, the ball moving directly towards the keeper, who had predicted the shot. As the keeper caught the ball, another loud sigh echoed through the ground. Once again he smiled and started limping back to the midfield.
I saw the end whistle blow. It was a win for his team. Our slow limping friend had passed yet another ball and this time it found its rightful home, the opponents goal. As he limped passed me, I said, “Good Game!!!”. He looked up to me, smiled and replied, “Yea, thoroughly enjoyed it. Come to watch us in the finals!!”.
No comments:
Post a Comment