One Last Chance

Tweet! As the shrill whistle rang in my ear, I jogged off the field with the rest of my team. Everyone was tense and exhausted, and we knew what had to come next if we wanted to win: penalty kicks. Our coach had us linger by the field, and he started picking the people for the shots. I could feel the rough turf in my shoes as we stood and waited for him to pick. His first choice was a defender, she had a hard boot and could place the ball really well. The next two girls were power forwards that all had solid and straight shots. However, the last choice was the most intriguing, as this girl performed well in most positions, but wasn’t the best shooter. I didn’t believe she had the best chance at scoring, but we had 4 other people so I decided it would be fine and dropped the thought. 

I could barely hear the cheering as we trudged onto the field, my mind was clouded with a million thoughts. As the other team prepared for their shot, I thought about the possible scenarios. We win, we celebrate. We lose, we go home disappointed for the end of the season. We had to win this. The first player stepped up, and I saw a glint in her eyes and she let out a small smirk. She marched back and turned around, then as the whistle blew, she drove it straight into the bottom left corner. Our goalie didn’t dive soon enough, and it gave them the first goal. Our first girl struck the ball, and it sliced through the air in a perfect arc…. But it fell short at the crossbar. Through the sun’s haze of light casted over the field, I saw her eyes glitter with tears, knowing the fact that her shot could’ve helped us win. I thought, It’s fine, just as long as we don't have to get to our last shooter. It was 0-1, and my head swarmed with different thoughts; doubt, nervousness, and lastly, hope. The second girl stepped up, and hammered it hard to the left, and I was doubtful again. However, the shot went wide and she missed. Our next player walked slowly to the spot, and we all cheered as loud as we could. She stepped back, and rocketed the ball into the bottom left corner, the goalie had no chance of saving it. It was tied, 1-1.  My heart pounded even harder, and the cheering grew even louder. The next girl shot it right at our goalie, and she saved it. Our player sent the ball straight into the bottom left corner again, and as everyone cheered, my heart felt like it was doing a gymnastics routine. My ears buzzed with the sound of the flies mixed with both teams’ cheering. We had caught up, and the score was 2-1. Now, there were two players left on each side. I took a deep breath and watched our goalie save the next shot. I thought to myself, If we can make this shot, we win. Ana can do it as long as she doesn’t hit it high. My head spun as she jogged to her spot. As she knocked the ball as hard as she could, it flew over the goal and onto another field. A disappointed sigh came out of the team. Now, it was the final moment. There was 1 player left on each side and it was 2-1 us. As the other girl shot it, she made it right into the top corner, and I thought we were goners. I thought to myself, Lily, really? It’s down to her to win this? She doesn’t play offense that often, and when she does, she loses it before she can shoot!

“Go Lily, you got this, you're going to win it for us!” Our team cheered for her like she was a celebrity. They had put their money on her, and trusted her to make the shot. My mind pulled a 180 and I slowly dissected my feelings and separated the jumble of thoughts in my mind. This was her moment, her chance to win, and I should believe in her to do it. And instead of concentrating on her faults, I pictured the times that she got shots in practice and took them flawlessly. She was our last chance, and I had to believe in her. As she walked up to the spot, the world seemed to slow down around me. As she ran and booted the ball, it cut through the air, a blur of stripes and spots, I realized how wrong I was about her. The shot was perfect. The ball slammed straight into the right side just as the goalie went left. A shot to close the season, not just winning the game, but the whole tournament. She had done it, she exceeded all my expectations and made the last shot despite the pressure. 

As we all ran onto the field and congratulated her, I secretly felt guilty for not thinking she could make it. I was still happy, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how I should have believed in her to make the shot. I told myself that I wouldn’t judge people on their worst qualities, but rather their best qualities. All these thoughts were left in the dust as we all celebrated with frozen yogurt after the game. But after, I still remembered my promise to myself, and I’ve tried my best to keep it.