Oof! Breathing...becomes hard...almost impossible. I take in sharp, uneven gasps, it hurts. My vision varies from a blurry, to a steady stare.
Breathe in, breathe out... I tell myself
I feel gentle hands wrap around me and carry me off the field. Cold grass brushes against my arms and legs as the hands gradually set me on the ground.
"Hands on your head." a stern voice demands "Now breathe, in, out, in, out..." I realize it's my coach
Eventually I catch my breath, and sit up to take a sip of my gatorade. I recieve a side glance from my coach.
"That was a pretty hard blow you took." he states
I laugh, "It sure was."
Heads from the opposing team turn at my laughter.
"She's tough." number 42 mentions, the others nod in agreement
I refocus my mind on the game. As always, Charles hogs the ball and attempts to get a goal. Of coarse he loses it. Sometimes boys can be so stupid, I guess that's what I get for joining the all boys team.
The opposing defense passes the ball to one of it's players. He dribbles the ball and attempts to shoot just like Charles. Evan, the goalie, dives for the ball, but an opposing player kicks it out of his grasp and shoots. I look at the referee who shows no recognition of the foul.
"What the fu-" the whistle interrupts my protests confirming that it was a goal.
Screams of anger erupt from the crowd, I spot one particular attractive man about my age yelling "FOUL! FOUL! He kicked the ball out of the goalie's hands!"
My coach gets up and runs torward the goal where Evan lays, crouched on the ground holding his wrist. My coach examines it, then gets up to lecture the amature ref.
"Why didn't you call that foul!?"
He answers stupidly "It was a fair goal sir."
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! IS THIS NOT ENOUGH PROOF TO PROVE IT WAS A FOUL?!" My coach screams, shaking Evan's wrist in the ref's face. Evan winces in pain as coach shakes his sore wrist. The ref just shrugs.
Coach bellows angerily "I'm gonna make sure you're fired!" and with that, he stomped off the field allowing the game to resume.
Evan sits down next to me rubbing his sore wrist, "I think it's just sprained." he states
"Let's hope it is! You're the best we have! Now Estar is in the goal, the game is gonna get tight without you." I reply
"Let's not forget about you, with Charles taking your spot, we're not gonna get many chances." he mentions solemnly
I give a little smirk as I continue watching the game. Yet again, Charles dribbles selfishly up the field. Defense stops him and passes it to their player upfield. This isn't gonna turn out well. I think to myself. They cross our defensive line with a series of well made passes. I cover my ears as the sound of ball brushing net fills my head. Goal! No! My head screams. This is not good... I get up to confront my coach.
"Put me out there..."
He answers with arms crossed "You're hurt..."
"I'm fine! Put me out there! You NEED me!" I scold
He sighs as he gives in "Charles! Switch with Luke, Luke out!" Coach gives me a small shove "Get out there."
This was it, this was our final chance...
