LIFE IN ONE PAGE

The Penalty of Perseverance

°•~Happy Reading~•°

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The sun was setting over the bustling streets of Jakarta, casting a warm orange glow over the crowded sidewalks. Among the throngs of people rushing to and fro, a young man named Rizal stood out. He was a tall, lanky figure with a mop of messy black hair and a perpetual look of boredom on his face.

Rizal was a penalty shooter for the local soccer team, and he had just been called in for a crucial match against their arch-rivals. As he walked onto the field, he felt a familiar sense of dread wash over him. He hated taking penalties, and yet, he was the best one on the team.

The opposing team's goalkeeper, a burly man with a menacing scowl, stood opposite him, his hands spread wide in a futile attempt to intimidate. Rizal snorted inwardly. He had seen it all before.

The referee blew the whistle, and Rizal began his ritualistic dance, bouncing the ball a few times before striking it with all his might. The crowd held its collective breath as the ball flew toward the goal, and for a moment, it seemed like it would sail straight into the net.

But the goalkeeper had other plans. With a mighty leap, he flung himself to the side, and the ball narrowly missed his outstretched hand, crashing into the post with a resounding clang. The crowd gasped in unison, and Rizal let out a frustrated sigh.

This was not the first time he had botched a penalty, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. As he walked off the field, he couldn't help but think about all the times he had let his team down.

But as he changed out of his gear and headed back to the locker room, he noticed something peculiar. The coach, a grizzled old man with a bushy beard, was sitting on the bench, staring intently at the ground.

"Coach, what's wrong?" Rizal asked, feeling a pang of concern.

The coach looked up, his eyes clouded with nostalgia. "I used to be a penalty shooter, you know," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "I was the best in the league, but I never won a championship. I always came up short, just like you."

Rizal's eyes widened in surprise as the coach continued, "But you know what? I never let it define me. I kept trying and kept pushing myself to be better. And you know what? It paid off. I became a coach, and I'm still here, still coaching."

Rizal felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he realized the coach was trying to tell him something. "It's not about winning or losing, Rizal," the coach said, his eyes twinkling with wisdom. "It's about getting back up and trying again. That's what being a penalty shooter is all about."

Rizal nodded, feeling a newfound sense of determination. He would get back out there, and he would try again. And maybe, just maybe, he would finally get it right. 

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°•~THE END~•°