Last Game

The toasty, sizzling sun burns my face. I can dreadfully feel a bead of water drip down my forehead. Five more minutes until soccer season was completely over. The score was 4-4 and it was almost over. I could imagine the spiky grass pointing through my feet, though I had cleats on. I sprinted down the field as if I were in a race. I had the ball now. It was my time. The goalie stood ten feet ahead of me. I could do this . . . no sweat. I thought the ball would burst into pieces because I shot it so hard. It hit the end of that silver pole and bounced directly into the goal box. The goalie was lying on the floor. I made it! We won the game!!