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Love of the Game

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It was one to zero at the end of the first half. I was going into the second half already frustrated at this point of the game but I knew if I wanted a winning outcome I had to stay focused and not worry about the score. Everything started turning around we had a few chances to score and the ball was in their half for about 10 minutes straight. But a few passes, a couple of elbows in the ribs then a clean shot to the upper v of the goal and the ball was in the back of my net for the second time. A roar from the other side of the crowd which frustrated me even more because it felt like the goal was being rubbed in my face. My hopes of winning were shut down. All focus was lost.
Loosing has always hit me hard because my team was usually on the winning side and being down by two mid way through the second half didn’t feel good. I needed to let my anger out, I took a swing at the goal post then came that rising throughout my whole foot. I take a step and stumble a little bit. I glanced over near our sideline and knew that my coach had seen what happened. He was definitely preparing a lecture for me when this dreadful game ended but, I could care less since we were already loosing what worse could happen? I heard a thud and remembered I was still in the game. A long ball was traveling up field and of course their best forward comes out with the ball. The only thing between her and the goal was me. Saving my team from being put down by another goal would be the best thing I could do for my team. But could I do it? She took a long to the right. That was my chance, I pushed off as hard as I could with my right foot and extended the farthest my body would let me. I was a little late and the ball slid right of the tips of my finger tips. I couldn’t get up I was stiff from the anger pulsing through my body because on the inside I knew if I trained a little longer, a little harder and worked on footwork we would still only be down by two.
I had to get up, keep competing. I gathered myself together, snatched the ball out of my net and with the little strength I had left blasted it at the back up the other team’s heads. I felt the frustration take over. I didn’t know what I was doing exactly, when I finally came back to it I was at the sideline gloves off with people staring. By looking at their facial expressions I guessed the game wasn’t over. I didn’t care anymore though I had to get out of the situation before I hurt myself even more or before I took my anger out on someone else but myself.

Once I got home that day I went straight to my bed contemplating how the 3-0 loss was going to affect the placement of where we were in the league standings. After I finally got the score out of my head, I thought about how I reacted to getting scored on. I thought about what kind of temper I have and figured if I wanted to go anywhere in soccer I wouldn’t make it very far judging how I showed myself on the field that day and to everyone watching. I had to start working on holding myself together through the rough times in soccer because not only does it take the enjoyment out of it but it also stops other coaches from wanting me on their team. Now every time soccer gets tuff I flashback to this game and use it as a learning point in life. Trying not to show my anger to the team because it will rub off on them then before you know it the whole team is frustrated and then you’re stuck, going nowhere but down in the game. Instead I keep back up and compete just like the game just started.





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