It's blistering hot outside, and not to mention that the turf I'm on is only making it hotter. My legs are sore and tired, my feet have blisters all over them, and my not so flattering head gear is getting sweat into my eyes. When the ball is launched too high up into the air, I can barely even see where it is going, and let's not forget if I focus too long on the ball in the air, I also have the possiblilty of getting ran over by another girl on the field who wants it almost as much as I do. Altogether, I've probably run about a mile and a half so far, and it's only the first half. I would say it's probably a good thing that I skipped that hamburger and Dr. Pepper earlier, or else all these people would be witnessing a natural disaster, also known as my puke flying across the field. At the moment, I'm not even sure why I play soccer.

The ref just whistled, and that means it's halftime. We're down 1-0 right now, and I don't think I'm mentally ready for the yelling I'm gonna hear from the coaches about this. I know I'm a lot better this, but I just want to tell them, "Come on coach, it's hot out here," but I know very well that would not go over too well with them. They aren't too content with excuses. I'm not either usually, but it really is hot. We got our talking to, and I think all the girls have a change in mind set. We break out, stronger than at the beginning of the game, and I know they have a change of heart. And so do I.

I step out on the field, ignoring all pain I felt earlier, and realize I'm coming out stronger than ever. I hear the whistle blow, and I'm already on the attack. This time, I'm not playing any defense when the time comes. I'm up top, and my job is to score, and that is precisely what I plan to do.

My midfielder behind me is dribbling the ball up the field. I realize that this is my chance, and start sprinting up past her, calling for the pass. I'm wide open, no one is even acknowleding that I'm over here with not a defender in sight. Well, they are in sight, but they aren't close enough to me that it would matter. If I got that ball, not even the goalie could stop my shot on goal.

I call for the pass again, but yet again, nothing. Not even a look in my direction. "Well then," I thought, "one more try won't hurt." I yell for it again, and this time the ball is shot right in my direction. The pass couldn't have been more perfect. One touch, a left footed shot, and the ball soars into the back of the net. Al I can do is smile. I know it was a good shot, and I know now we are tied 1-1, with 35 minutes left in the second half. This game is far from over.

We hustle back to the middle of the field for kick off, and now my adrenaline is really pumping. Nothing could stop me now. Well, unless someone kicked me in the face or something; that might stop me. Although, that's far from my mind, because at the moment, I'm basically invincible.

About 25 minutes have passed, and we are still tied. Ten minutes left, and I'm pushing through all the pain for my team. The sacrifice I make will be well worth it if we come back from this to get a win.

I'm up on the left side, and the ball is traveling very quickly towards me. I go for the ball, knowing that it is going to hurt like crazy, but I don't care. I control the ball and am taking it down the field, outrunning everyone who tries to catch me. I'm faster than them, with and without a ball at my feet. I'm closing in on the goal, and take a hard left shot.

It felt like hours had passed as I watched the ball soar in the air. It seemed as if it was never going to make it. My hope was dwindling every second it took for the ball to reach the net. I was about to give up on the thought of it going in, until the ball had finally whipped just above the goalie's hands and landed in the back of the goal.

Everyone is cheering, and this feeling is something I don't want to end. I can't help but smile because I know that we deserve this. Right now, I remember why I sacrifice so much. Right now, the sacrifice is worth it. Right now, I know why I play soccer. It's for the love of the game.