The Breakaway | Teen Ink

The Breakaway MAG

By Unknown, Unknown, Unknown

   A breakaway at half field

Six players running straight at you

Your heart begins to pound

You get in your ready position

Top of the 18,

They're still dribbling the ball in

Penalty line, they shoot

It's going over your head

You say to yourself, "Not this time"

Diving into the air,

Tipping the ball over the crossbar

The whistle blows, no goal

The game's over, the score, 1-0 us





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