My dream was to win it all. And by all, I mean the State Cup with my soccer team. We trained— for what seemed like a millennium—to prepare, and when the time came, we knew what we needed to do.
My coach said, “You are going to go down in history. You will be the first team to win State cup.” And the team believed him. We wanted to win.
Focusing at school was not an option during the week leading up to the championship. My thoughts were consumed with the upcoming weekend. Are we going to win? Am I going to play well enough to help my team? What if we lose? Oh man, I can’t stand the thought of losing to FC Milwaukee.
The school bell rang. This meant the weekend. In one day, I would be playing the biggest game of my life.
“Today’s the day,” I told myself as I woke up. The jittery car ride forced fear. It was time to face our biggest rivals. FC Milwaukee. Oh how I despised them. They were always so cocky and rude.
The game was a battle and rolled into double overtime. It was over. The final whistle blew and I broke down crying. Tears flowed down my sweaty, salt-dried face. Tears flowed down my teammates’ faces. And tears flowed down my coach’s face. All that preparation. We did it. We made history.