He screamed “pass the ball.” I ignored him. He yelled “Elyssa pass that ball.” I don’t know why but I ignored him again. Maybe it reflects poorly on my teenage attitude but then again when you’re fifteen no one can truly tell you what to do.

We were standing alongside of the field, listening to coach tell us to pass the ball and explaining how it could change the whole game setting.
TWEET TWEET!
“Okay, do your cheer and get out there.” He whispers.
Standing on the field, body shivering, teeth chattering, wiggling around just to stay warm. Parents are yelling coaches are yelling.
TWEET!
The battle was on. Kids running all over the field, screaming for the ball. Going crazy, I look for a place to run. “ELYSSA!” my teammate shouts as the ball is rolling toward me.
I received the ball.
Kids running toward me. Parents, coaches yell at the top of their lungs. “Pass the ball” someone shrieks. My mind, head, going crazy with all the noise. Head on a swivel. The players running to get the ball blocked all my teammates. I had not one person to pass the ball to.
I start to panic. I didn’t want to disappoint coach but at this point my only option was to just kick the ball as hard as I could. So I did. The shouting, cheering, howling stopped. Except from coach. “What did I tell you?!” smoke coming from his ears, face bright red. I wanted to cry. I had never let him down and today was not the day for it.
Heads were watching the ball sore as if it was a bird with its wings out wide.
SWOOSH
I did it! I had made the winning goal!
Parents, coaches, teammates cheering. Smiling, I run to meet my team jumping around the field.
TWEET TWEET TWEET! That was the end of the game.
After, coach asks me, “What did you learn from this game?”
I reply with a big smile on my face “that sometimes being under pressure is a good thing and don’t always listen to coach.”
He laughed, patted my head and walked off.