The second I hit the ground
From the blaring sound of the crowd
I knew I was taking a trip to the line
A shiver went down my spine

The game is now in my hands
Anxiety expands
That vicious challenge that left me on the dirt
The opponent’s chances of winning are hurt

I take traces of grass off my knee
Indentations like in the snow when I ski
My jersey smells of unwashed socks and cat food
The stench itself puts me in a bad mood

The ref places the ball on the sod
And gives me a nod
He paces the length of the goal
His uniform is blemished with a hole

I start walking toward the ball, feet like lead
I even felt woozy in the head
I walk back a space
Then strike the ball with my lace

There is a satisfying thud
As it flies through the air in a torrent of grass and mud
Through the screen of upturned turf I see a crimson flash
The goalie dove for the ball, cash
But the projectile glanced off the ruby splash
With a look as though he’d just been slapped
He fell on top of the white goal line with a crash


The masses on the bleachers
Erupted like mangy creatures
They stomped on the steel foot rests
I couldn’t hear, my heart beating at best

I felt like a weight has been taken off my chest
None of the trials this year had been in jest
My joy had erupted, a bullet from a gun
The championship we had just won