A Scared Moment
Christian, Age 13, Jamison, PA

It was the summer of 2013 on July 16th at 3:09 PM - nice and sunny, with a gloomy haze in the morning. We had just won two games straight and were on top of our age bracket with thirteen goals all together. The team we had to compete with in the championships had twelve goals, and this would be the epic game of a lifetime. As we stated the final game, we could both tell that this would be a tough game. We came out strong though towards the end of the first half with a stunning two goals.

In the second half, they scored right off the bat with a top left corner shot, the most unstable, off balance, dumb shot I’d ever seen. Toward the end of the second, they scored another goal, and then we tied the game before the regulation time was over. We went into overtime and nothing happened—no one scored, and so we had to go into penalty shootout. We went through three rounds of penalty shots until the final one came. It was my turn to take a shot, and if I scored we would win the tournament.

Nervously, I stepped up to the line, placed the ball down on the ground, and took four steps back. Then, sweat dripping, pulse rising, I charged in a plethora of patterns toward the ball. I took the shot like I was Cristiano Ronaldo and watched the ball soar. It went straight to the same spot I always shot: top left. The goalie got a hand on it, but it still got through and went in. GOAL! Then it happened. All of a sudden I was the firewood on a dog pile, sweating like dogs, moms crying - we had just won the championships. Then I realized that every moment, no matter how short, should be savored as the greatest moment ever in your memories. When I was finally home in my soft comfy bed, cotton pajamas nice and fuzzy, I stayed awake the whole night, and the only thing I could think about was when my next game was. 

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