The past season,
Weighing down to this moment.
Flashbacks of glories and mistakes.

Whistle blows, now in focus.
My opposing player,
Behind the line,
Tosses it up to serve.

‘Puh.’ The familiar sound of a serve.
Floating towards me in slow motion,
Shuffling on my toes,
To line up with …

‘Thud.’ Back to regular speed now.
It’s rising to its peak,
Spinning down to the setter.
Taking away all of the impact from it,
She shoots up her arms like superman.

‘Pop!’ Just like a rainbow,
It floats away from her.
Even the audience is eyeing it with us,
As the hitter’s taking her approach.

‘Smack!’ A line drive straight to the back,
I thought in my head. But no, I heard another sound
We got blocked.

Still in the game,
Every player surrounding the hitter,
Dives for the ball,
Trying to pop it up.

‘Eeerch!’ Court burn sounds fill my ears,
Skin sliding for the ball.
I see a pile of players sprawling on the ground
And the ball flying to me.

Trying not to panic,
I swung my arm,
With as much force as I could,
Over the net, to a hole in their defense.

Point! Us six players jumping and screaming,
The rest of the team piles on top of us chanting
City Champs! City Champs!