Treacherous Turmiol: The One Glorifying Experience
Sports Games Required Humilation for the Intellectual.
Rare as they may be, I consider myself quite a fine example of one of them.
My achievements off the sports field would more than fill this snapshot of writing, so I will focus only on the treacherous turmiol of sweat and competition. The following recounting is 100% true, and an autobiographical piece.
It was the last game of the season: the second half. This was our last chance to redeem ourselves. Fifteen minutes on the clock, 0-0…
She passed me the ball. Like a mad lion chasing its pray; I tackled each girl in my path with a skilled pull or sheer force. I was nearing the circle.
Oh my God. This is it.
I passed it to a team mate, and flew to the far post.
“FOUL! BLUE .” Shouted the ref.
She passed to the other post. Stick down, I screamed here!. She passed. I shot…
Honestly, as it is my one glorifying experience, how do you think it ends?