Essay, Research Paper: Feeling Essay
English
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The final whistle blew. The game was tied, and the winner was yet to be decided.
We all knew that the fate of the game was to be determined by penalties, a
soccer player’s most hated fear. The entire team was nervous as our coach
carefully studied each player, trying to figure out whom he would choose for
this infamous task. There was a moment of silence; the kind of silence you think
only exists in movies. The ephemeral moment lasted an eternity. Would he choose
me? Was I to bear the pressure of representing the entire team in a lottery that
could easily be lost? Much to my regret, I was, indeed, one of these unfortunate
people. I was to be the last one to shoot, the deciding figure, the person upon
whom rested the hopes and dreams of our team for reaching the final. I was lost
in the nebulous world around me. I was so concentrated on how I would shoot the
ball that I did not even realize it was almost my turn. The score was tied at
three. If I made the penalty our team would win the game. If not… I could not
even think about that. My mind was fixated on two thoughts: winning and winning.
My brain had no room for more. I knew now that I could no longer delay the final
verdict. It was time to kick. There I was, facing the ball, trying to anticipate
the goalkeeper’s next move. I was paralyzed. The few seconds between the time
I placed the ball on the penalty spot and heard the whistle seemed like an
eternity. My head was bombarded with horrifying thoughts, “Where should I
shoot… To what side will the goalkeeper throw himself… What if I miss?”
All my previous preparation was no longer pertinent. Now it was just me and the
goalkeeper. Sweat was running down my forehead. The heat around me made the
suffering unbearable. The ardent sun was burning my face. The heat, the sweat,
the pressure- all were impediments to my own personal glory. As I approached the
ball my mind went blank. I had stopped breathing a long time ago. I knew not
where I was and I knew not who the people surrounding me were. I knew however,
that the ball was going to reach the back of the net. Suddenly, my foot and the
ball made contact. There was not a sound around me to be heard. Hundreds of
people quiet at once. The silence lasted forever… until the ball finally hit
the back of the net. Dumbfounded, I looked around at a wave of people ready to
splash all over me. I could not move. I stood in the sun, enjoying the moment,
my moment. This was my day. I was the king of the world! I had reached the glory
I wanted. I was at the pinnacle of my ecstasy, where my fears and my trepidation
had been conquered by the sweet taste of success.
We all knew that the fate of the game was to be determined by penalties, a
soccer player’s most hated fear. The entire team was nervous as our coach
carefully studied each player, trying to figure out whom he would choose for
this infamous task. There was a moment of silence; the kind of silence you think
only exists in movies. The ephemeral moment lasted an eternity. Would he choose
me? Was I to bear the pressure of representing the entire team in a lottery that
could easily be lost? Much to my regret, I was, indeed, one of these unfortunate
people. I was to be the last one to shoot, the deciding figure, the person upon
whom rested the hopes and dreams of our team for reaching the final. I was lost
in the nebulous world around me. I was so concentrated on how I would shoot the
ball that I did not even realize it was almost my turn. The score was tied at
three. If I made the penalty our team would win the game. If not… I could not
even think about that. My mind was fixated on two thoughts: winning and winning.
My brain had no room for more. I knew now that I could no longer delay the final
verdict. It was time to kick. There I was, facing the ball, trying to anticipate
the goalkeeper’s next move. I was paralyzed. The few seconds between the time
I placed the ball on the penalty spot and heard the whistle seemed like an
eternity. My head was bombarded with horrifying thoughts, “Where should I
shoot… To what side will the goalkeeper throw himself… What if I miss?”
All my previous preparation was no longer pertinent. Now it was just me and the
goalkeeper. Sweat was running down my forehead. The heat around me made the
suffering unbearable. The ardent sun was burning my face. The heat, the sweat,
the pressure- all were impediments to my own personal glory. As I approached the
ball my mind went blank. I had stopped breathing a long time ago. I knew not
where I was and I knew not who the people surrounding me were. I knew however,
that the ball was going to reach the back of the net. Suddenly, my foot and the
ball made contact. There was not a sound around me to be heard. Hundreds of
people quiet at once. The silence lasted forever… until the ball finally hit
the back of the net. Dumbfounded, I looked around at a wave of people ready to
splash all over me. I could not move. I stood in the sun, enjoying the moment,
my moment. This was my day. I was the king of the world! I had reached the glory
I wanted. I was at the pinnacle of my ecstasy, where my fears and my trepidation
had been conquered by the sweet taste of success.
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