The Kick

It is all nearly over For weeks they have waited for this,trained for this,has he trained for this It has all come down to what he does best Kick But this is no ordinary kick no It will make the difference between glory and defeat The difference between honour and humiliation One kick Nervously he takes the ball from his captain Who scored the points needed to square Heart pounding like the hoofs of the bulls of Pamplona Crowd menacing all around - watching his every move,his every breath,for signs of fear and weakness This he knows, but he must let this knowledge go Stress moistens his forehead,adrenalin rushing through every muscle Focus on the kick! Places the ball on a small heap of sand,not the tee that everyone else uses for a helping hand He has done it like this for as long as he knows The nozzle of the ball dead ahead Staring at its target,two white poles sticking out of the blades of greenest green It must find the space between No other path will be allowed The kicker steps back Again They are back Watching,waiting He can feel it now The power,the glory,all that comes with winning Lose?He does not know how! In front of the posts he is! He rushes forward and braces for what is to come Up,up and away.......... Where is the cheering?Where is the hysteria? Silence No!Not here,not now! Please let it not be so! Not this kick! He had forgotten to keep his head down The ball had swung to the left His mates wear faces of disgust He has lost their trust All he sees is tears,all he sees is hate Is this his cruel fate? How could he miss it? How could he miss... The Kick?