The whistle blows sharp and clear.
The ball drops in the water just feet in front of the sprinters who are surrounded with white water.
Arms fly and players swipe at the ball and each other.
The ball is launched back and lands in the hands of the ball handler.
Directing traffic they draw a foul by quickly turning then going under.
Everything happens in a blur.
I size up my opponent and memorize his number.
I swim straight by him and he loses me in traffic.
The ball is thrown in front of me and I snatch at it.
I come up for the shot but my opponent has now caught up with me and is trying to grab my suit.
I thrash out a leg and hear him wince.
He then comes down on top of plunging me under the surface.
I fight for air.
I come up fifteen seconds later to find I have been awarded a penalty shot.
Five meters from the goal I stare down the goalies dull green bloodshot eyes.
The fans quiet.
Coaches hold there breaths.
Players ready to launch forward at my first move.
I feel the grip of the ball on my fingertips.
It is balanced in my hand.
I breath in and out counting to three between each breath.
I feel in control.
One sharp tweet,
One sweeping movement,
One breath held,
One goal made.
The fans cheer,
The coaches cheer,
The players yell out,
I smile.
-JP
That is really good
ReplyDeleteI like how it started with describing the commotion with lines that were less ordered. Then the penalty shot description was in short, repetitive lines showing the calm and anticipation of the shot.
ReplyDeleteThis is an excellent example of showing rather than telling when you write. I felt like I was at the match, perhaps at first listening to a commentator, then I switched to feeling like I was playing in the game.
ReplyDelete