Skip to main content
Like
Create new Glog
previous
next
Email share
28 views | 0 likes | 0 reposts
Breathe. Ragged Breathes. Blood. Jagged Beats. Pump. Shaky legs. The rhythm of the game erratic through the field. Questions of defeat drift through my membrane of confidence. I can taste the blood on the tip of my tongue. The fire inside me fuels to a greater level. My vision blurs and narrows to the ball at my feet. As I tunnel towards the goal, fighting off the pestering defender, the taste of victory is almost tangible in the air. As I shoot the ball into the upper corner of the ragged net, my soul soars, and as it eludes the keeper, jumps to an even higher level of elation. Sweat mixes with pride as I receive my congratulatory high fives. The moment is reverberated within my mind as the “good shots” are yelled from the defenders. I meekly smile and turn to face the oncoming kickoff, which is cut short by the shrill of the referees whistle, signaling the end of the game. I catch a glimpse of my team yet again, and I realize, I didn’t do it for them. Which spurs the question, what did I do it for? Pride? Happiness? Victory? Or maybe I did do it for them. I realize that making that goal not just won us, quite possibly, the biggest game of our adolescent lives, but it gave us something to rest our hopes on. It gave us a chance to be a part of something bigger than ourselves, something better than ourselves. It gave us a place to call home, when nothing else did. A place to find refuge, when nothing else was offered. And I guess thats why I do it. Because who wouldn’t want to be a part of a family that never loses? And a family, that when failure shuts a door, opens a window for success. I smile as I realize, I jumped out that window long ago, and now, flying high, I’ve truly found my success in passion.
Soccer Its not just a sport Its a Passion Its a Lifestyle Soccer Is me
