Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Only One Shot

Custom User Avatar
More by this author
“Only one shot!” Yelled out my soccer coach. “You only get one shot!”

There stood the opposite teams goalie, shifting her weight from one foot to another, both her hands sticking out at her sides. She had a mocking look on her face, making me want to tackle her. Time seemed to slow down. Everyone was caught up on the other side of the field when my team mate kicked the ball long and far towards me.

Left, right. Left, Right. I kept repeating. It would take maybe seven or eight seconds, tops, before people would try to take the ball away. My heart was beating hard in my chest. The goal kept getting smaller and smaller as the goalie kept shouting out hate remarks.

“Come on, girl! You have the whole field to yourself and you will still miss!” My eyes did not meet with her’s. The dirty black and white ball bounced back and fourth between my feet. I never shot a goal this season, and it felt like it has been forever since I made one. The only thing stopping me was my feet. So, I took the risk.

I took and deep breath and stared at the goal; lining up my shot. It seemed perfect. I took two steps back, keeping my eyes on the goal, and the mocking girl. Only one shot I said under my breath. Finally, I took the first step with my left foot, then the right. My left foot hit the ball as hard as it could, making it’s was to the goal. I stood there watching the ball and the goalie trying to make sure it did not go in.

Someone’s foot landed in front of me, knowing it was too late to stop the ball. The goalie kept her eyes glued to the ball. After a second she lunged to the right, her hands high above her head, reaching. The ball twirled as it hit the goalies fingers, but I already knew what the outcome would be.

“GOAAAL!” Cried the announcer. Everyone cheered in the background. My teammates made there way up to me, jumping on top of me as I ran around the field. The crowd cheered and horns were blown. I made the first goal of the game. I ran up to the goalie, now laying on the grown in shock. I bent down at whispered in her ear, “I let my haters be my motivators”. She lifted her head up and I offered my hand.

She took it and said, “You know what girl?” she smiled. “Bet you can’t make another one.”



Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback