Just Imagine.
You are a striker. You are in a goal drought. Without explanation, your cleats have run dry. Dry as the Sahara. In another season, the goals flowed like the Niagara Falls. But not now. And then, all of a sudden, you get the ball, and yet another pathetic attempt to beat the defender, you get ambushed by a flash of white, and then a man in a jersey whizzes past you,and when you look down, your legs are deprived of the ball. You look back at the rest of the field, and almost as if they were possessed, your eyes float through the air towards the bench, where the manager looks at the referee, and signals to another striker. He gets up, and removes his jacket.
That's it, your're dropped.
You toss and turn at night, dreaming of scoring.
You remember, that time. When you danced past the keeper, with some exquisite footwork and a fake to the the left, and you look up, and it's as if time stops still. You see the net. It's open, It's empty. You lift your foot, and then all as if by magic whirs to life, and you miss.
You look at the net again, It mocks you. It tantalizes you. And it is still empty.
Hello there, again.
Arsenal Legend Thierry Henry once said, "sometimes, all we need to do is score."
It's that joy, the feeling of euphoria from the heart that redefine scoring. That moment, when you turn around and face the world, after scoring. Your team mates. The Crowd. Your opponents. The Goal Keeper. Their faces, a searing portrayal of their expressions. A wave of nausea hit you. HARD. But it feels good. It's elating. Almost, ethereal.
This is that spirit of Ecstasy. The Ecstasy Of Scoring.
But what if you don't score? Frustration, lack of confidence, disbelief, denial, and at last - Acceptance. Acceptance that the magic in your feet, the aura of your fame. Lost, in the sands of time.
Miss - the terrifying definition of being alone in soccer. The reception of history marries players to these terrible moments of blunders, forcing them to think - it would have been easier just to score.
The shame can kill you, it is said. Kahlil Gibran, American- Lebanese poet one said, " By losing your goal, you lose your way. " Steller careers have been overshadowed by that, one black hole.
Football can be a can be a cruel sport. One could be domination possession and way clearer chance, only to lose due to that goal against of play. It Is a sport that can hurt the strongest of men and women. Entire nations can mourn a team's loss. Sometimes, you literally feel your life force being sucked out of you.
So, then Why do we put ourselves through this torture ?
It's that Ecstasy of scoring that goal. That winning goal. The thrill of victory. And it is for moments like this, we play this ' Beautiful Game.'
__________________
And the reason, we have the will power is to survive this oppression, is because we are Nor Just Flesh and Bones.
You are a striker. You are in a goal drought. Without explanation, your cleats have run dry. Dry as the Sahara. In another season, the goals flowed like the Niagara Falls. But not now. And then, all of a sudden, you get the ball, and yet another pathetic attempt to beat the defender, you get ambushed by a flash of white, and then a man in a jersey whizzes past you,and when you look down, your legs are deprived of the ball. You look back at the rest of the field, and almost as if they were possessed, your eyes float through the air towards the bench, where the manager looks at the referee, and signals to another striker. He gets up, and removes his jacket.
That's it, your're dropped.
You toss and turn at night, dreaming of scoring.
You remember, that time. When you danced past the keeper, with some exquisite footwork and a fake to the the left, and you look up, and it's as if time stops still. You see the net. It's open, It's empty. You lift your foot, and then all as if by magic whirs to life, and you miss.
You look at the net again, It mocks you. It tantalizes you. And it is still empty.
Hello there, again.
Arsenal Legend Thierry Henry once said, "sometimes, all we need to do is score."
It's that joy, the feeling of euphoria from the heart that redefine scoring. That moment, when you turn around and face the world, after scoring. Your team mates. The Crowd. Your opponents. The Goal Keeper. Their faces, a searing portrayal of their expressions. A wave of nausea hit you. HARD. But it feels good. It's elating. Almost, ethereal.
This is that spirit of Ecstasy. The Ecstasy Of Scoring.
But what if you don't score? Frustration, lack of confidence, disbelief, denial, and at last - Acceptance. Acceptance that the magic in your feet, the aura of your fame. Lost, in the sands of time.
Miss - the terrifying definition of being alone in soccer. The reception of history marries players to these terrible moments of blunders, forcing them to think - it would have been easier just to score.
The shame can kill you, it is said. Kahlil Gibran, American- Lebanese poet one said, " By losing your goal, you lose your way. " Steller careers have been overshadowed by that, one black hole.
Football can be a can be a cruel sport. One could be domination possession and way clearer chance, only to lose due to that goal against of play. It Is a sport that can hurt the strongest of men and women. Entire nations can mourn a team's loss. Sometimes, you literally feel your life force being sucked out of you.
So, then Why do we put ourselves through this torture ?
It's that Ecstasy of scoring that goal. That winning goal. The thrill of victory. And it is for moments like this, we play this ' Beautiful Game.'
__________________
And the reason, we have the will power is to survive this oppression, is because we are Nor Just Flesh and Bones.
