NotSo Golden os! aD A fly at unimaginable speeds towards the opposin mall alone there is no one traling me a pale that is draped ina golden jersey. there iso one leading me. Nothing else matters to me right now other than my feet which are ina blury heap below me as they wily fluctuate at an uncontrollable speed ike pistons in a car. Narrowing the gap between me and my destination, time seems to slow. We ae traling 8:7 and my heart leap as Irellzed had a golden opportunity tote the game and give us chance at winning. Massive, enthusiastic crowds sutround me with their mouths ‘open asifthey were yling but Ican apprehend no such thing; lam completly isolated from everyting ‘other than my curent objective; scoring, Sweats beading on ey body and then rling down my body in sleek and slimy streams. My hands are having tremors inside of my cushioned gloves; | notice that some ofthe stiches were loose and frayed. Stench seeps out of my Jersey collar and envelops my fee. 1 Took down one more time almost to assure myself that lam still moving and not jst gracefully ating ‘Blood is coursing through my veins and | can hear it thumping its way around my fatigued and strained body. had been eagerly catapultng myself the short distance tothe opposing goalie and eal all oo late that had | misjudged the distance, My stomach sinks and I curse myself a realize that had stepped inside the goalies safe zone, the crease. The referee blow into his puny, blak whistle and emit deafening high pitch screech, calling me on crease ply. Immediately after the whistle, hear the resounding buzzer sound that filed the entire arena, signaling the end ofthe game and our loss, my los