Rhythm On The Field

The tumultuous crowd was cheering for me as I was going to make a save that would elevate my team to the finals.

Bup bum, bump… The palpitating heartbeat, the clamour of noises from the stadium, made my stomach lurched.

A hand was raised, the crowd hushed into a pitiable, piquant silence.

My vision zeroed in unto the penalty taker, it was between me and him, between winning and losing. I kept my composure, he lost his.

One, two, three, four, five…. He dashed into a blurring sprint, flitted across the ball, his foot work was in a morass, a total mess.

TING! The ball came of the post, I reveled upon his blunder, thrust my gloved-fist to the victorious air, relishing upon the momentous providence.

Rhythmic

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Hope. Joy. Feelings cloaked as words.

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