What a Game

         We can do it!” I assured myself, but my words were never so faltering.

         The stagnant air condensed in the intense atmosphere; at the same time, the sun parched the muddy field. I swiped away a cascade of sweat as the referee was just about to toss the soccer ball high up into the air. My team, the Broncos was up against the Tigers, the most formidable team among any others. Nevertheless, I still believed that several months of strenuous soccer practices would lead us to a glorious outcome.

         However, throughout the first half of the game, my conviction wasn’t very credible.

         "Do we have a plan B? This isn’t working,” I asked. “There’s not much time left until the second round, so guys quick!” I ogled at my teammates, anticipating a response while I gulped down water, sugary, luscious water in which hid stark mockery of our first beaten round.          “Gosh, they were speedy,” Pauline, one of the best players in my team, muttered breathlessly, sprawling onto the bench. “We couldn’t even defend their forwards from passing, never mind mentioning the times when we do get the ball.”

         “Tigers...tigers... What they are!” I retorted.

         “Whoa! Girls! We aren’t finished yet! Stop talking nonsense!” Coach Whitney overheard us said. “Nonsense, is that all what I’ve taught?”

         Across the field, I could see my teammates dragging their deserted selves, inching their way toward the resting zone. They appeared more to be browbeaten soldiers, crippling and falling into one another, than Broncos, briskly darting living things, which we once avowed to be.

          When every one of the Broncos amassed at the bench, fighting for water and respite, Coach Whitney pulled out her whiteboard and called for attention.

         “So you see, here, Pauline, when you get the ball, Kelly, you should run up here, and Caitlyn and Michelle, I want you to run up the lines and assist the passings. And try to get past or avoid if you girls can player number twelve. And for defense, it’s the same old principle to always guard your man…” Coach Whitney said. She looked up from the board, and my eyes met hers. “Okay, you know what, forget about what I said. I just want you guys to have fun. Let me revise my words, it’s the same old principle for every Broncos to have fun!” Her voice lighted up like the ringing sound of the violin tuning up for the highest A note. She flung her whiteboard onto the bench, washing away our disheartened mien and forcing on us doubtful smiles.

         “Yep. Broncos! Let’s make some fun out of it!” Pauline said lightheartedly when the referee blew the whistle for the second game round.

         In a flash, the ball had landed with a loud thump before I sprang back to consciousness. And again, the forwards of the opposing team zigzagged past the mid-fielders and raced toward my last line of defense. The defenders in front of me were aghast to what they saw, but they still did their utmost to try to get the ball going in the other direction. However, their attempts were in vain.

         The ball was now whisking from player to player within the opposing team, and it was drawing closer and closer towards the goal line, in other words, towards me. My hands were blistering, swathed inside my soccer gloves. I poised myself with hands held high. Whoosh. The ball scuttled over, and I jumped to seize it, stretching my arms high up to the sky. Not until I felt its warm presence hit hard against my gloves, I wouldn’t have believed that I had caught that very ball. Gaping unbelievably at it, I had never felt so proud before.

         “YES! BRONCOS! I SAVED A POINT” I shouted delectably. Tears of rapture shone like crystals. An explosion of cheers reverberated across the field, detonating the once hushed atmosphere. This wasn’t the end of the game but, rather, a fine start of it. My catching the ball fortified the faith of our team that was about to shatter. Rising from despair, may we once again, challenge the next fifteen minutes.

         “Come on, Broncos! Let the game begin!” Pauline winked at me.

         After all, even though we didn’t win the champion, we were more ecstatic than ever. This game was an embodiment of the ultimate power of teamwork, cooperation, and effort. Without these aspects, sports would no longer be sports. Although we didn’t always achieve these things during practices, we collaborate well during the final game, sticking together as one with the same grit and determination. No words could depict the feeling of being able to work as a team, and with teammates that were willing to dedicate and contribute as much as they possibly can. After all, the shimmering trophy was no more than Coach Whitney's flung whiteboard lay abandoned out of mind.