Train Of Thought: Delayed

August 26th, 2018.

August 26th, 2018. The day that ten years of my life had built up to, even if when I was 5, I had no idea it would.
The pitch had that same familiar smell. It seemed to only come with that pitch, in particular, fresh damp grass with an underlying smell of what can only be described as soggy Weet-Bix. I've always found the smell interesting. Dusk just about to fall on the not overly sunny day, Summer was drawing closer. I focused on my breathing as we did the warmup, getting in the zone. Butterflies started to make themselves more accounted for as the time drew nearer. I didn't think it was going to be this much of a big deal, it was just another game of football, the sport I have played for so long and grown such a passion for. But no, this wasn't just another game of football. This was a game against New Caledonia's national team, my first international game, and I was buzzing with excitement and nerves.
When the starting line-up was named, I couldn't contain my grin. Number 2, Tara Murphy, right-wing. Walking out to the pitch, something I had done so many times, felt oddly so alien. I counted my steps as I went through the game plan in my head. 2.. 3.. 4.. 5.. 6.. run the ball up the sides and cross it into the middle. I watched as internal me controlled the ball and smashed it into the goal. Surely this will be one of those few games I score in. We shook hands with the opposition wishing them good, while secretly eyeing out who we would be marking.
Before I knew it, the sharp high pitch note I've heard well over a thousand times came ringing. Here we go, game on. 90 minutes to prove my worth in this team. Here I was, at home on the grass, battling it out alongside a few of my mates. This right sideline, my territory. I controlled the play here.
I dribbled it down the pitch and passed into the middle, trying pass to one of my teammates on the inside. An intercept was made by the other team. Man, I sure hope this doesn't lead to a goal. I sprinted back to prevent the attack even further. Please no, don't let my mistake cost us the match already.

Our defenders won it back. Phew. Come on, you can't afford mistakes in a game like this. I tried to shake it off and get back to my job.
My turn on the ball, can't lose it again. Blocking a few tackles, and running through a few more, come on, got to get up to the corner so I can make the cross. A sudden impact from the side, I stumble a bit losing the ball at my feet. I have lost it again.

Man, where did she even come from. My confidence dropped slightly. Should have passed it. That's two mistakes now, Coach would have seen them. I picked myself up and go off the grass to get back to where I was supposed to be.
The game went on for a bit more. The ball seemed to stay on the other side of the field as if it was telling me "I'm not coming back to you just so you can lose me again." My head hung slightly as I was left to wade in my thoughts. Finally, we had a goal kick. The ball had made its way back to my side of the pitch. Yes, now to fix my mistakes and get this sucker into the goal at the other end of the pitch somehow.
Around one player, bounce pass off my teammate, back to me as I ran past my second defender. Keep an eye out for that rogue player. I scanned around for them keeping the ball closer as I came near the place I was going to cross the ball at. No one there. This was my shot, my chance to prove myself again after those mistakes.
I swung my leg and the ball flew up into the air curving graciously to just in front of the goal where I wanted it to go. Centre box for the header in.
But that wasn't what happened. When I kicked the ball, my footing slipped on a soft spot in the turf and so, instead of that perfect flight, it just bobbled heading away from the goal and straight to one of the opposition defenders. They had the ball back and I had completed my third mistake.
I hung my head as the ball went out on the other side of the pitch and made my way back to where I was positioned on the field by the coach. Not long after the game was stopped for substitution and I was subbed off. Well, I can't say I didn't see that coming. Yeah kind of deserved it. Red-faced and out of breath, in need of a drink of water but rearing to get back on. I had 45 minutes left to get that goal of mine and fix my mistakes.
I first started playing when I was 5. Mum and Dad came to me asking if I would like to play this amazing game because the boy over the road needed some more teammates in his team. I'm glad I said yes. All those years of tackles that left scars, cold mornings, drenched afternoons, all those passes intercepted, games lost and injuries that seemed to take forever to overcome. There were mornings where I lay in bed weighing up my options, deciding if it was worth getting up. Those same mornings ending with just the smallest bit of my mind fighting against the rest of my body, pushing through the pain to prove just how much I had fallen in love with this game and show just how much I wanted to keep going.
Looking back on it all now, all of that lead up to this day the good, the bad and the challenge. But it doesn't stop here. Oh no. Definitely not. If anything, this is where it all starts. All those years leading up to one day and that and that one day leading to many more. That's the next goal, to not let this day be just a one-off.

Back on the field, racing down that side-line, wind whipping around my face. I hear the cheers from my supporters as we are on the attack, muffled out by that same breeze. Now's my chance. I look for the cross, time my run in, watch as the ball ping pongs around near the back post. The light flicks on in my head, I've got to get it. Pushing passed defenders and stretch my leg out reaching for it, tapping the ball with my foot in the right direction, I hold my breath.
Barely a second passes before one of the most satisfying sounds I've ever heard occurs. The soft swish of the ball against the net. The roar of the crowd and rush of accomplishment. I did it, my first international goal in my first international game.