A Moment In Time.

A sudden hush fell upon the crowd, the only noise was from the breathing of the two opponents left on the field.

Tapping back and forth on the balls of her feet the goalie stood under the bar awaiting the whistle. Trying to get lighter and lighter, to move like a cat, to pre-determine which direction the ball will take. A bead of sweat rolls down the bridge of her nose.

It was a tie game and the shooter stood poised ready to make her score. Her teammates stood off to the side, her opponents stood hoping. She could feel the tension in the air, she could feel her heartbeat quicken. A light warm breeze played across the field, it's gentle nature pushing some stray leaves. The ball was in place.

Time slowed down.

The referee raised his arm, looking at both opponents, his whistle firmly gripped in his mouth. Eye contact made between the shooter and the goalie only heightened the suspense. A cute curl formed on the lips of the shooter, a devilish smile. The goalie broke no emotion. A last bead of sweat hit the ground as the piercing sound of the whistle broke the silence.

Slowly the shooter shifted her weight as she propelled herself forward. Each step thundering after the last. The goalie's legs were bent like springs about to release. The grass squished under the weight of the shooter's forward motion. With each step she grew closer to the ball. It's stillness about to be shattered.
Muscles tensed, the foot struck the ball, it's form changing shape for only a moment, then it accelerated towards the goal.

It was at this moment the goalie sprung. With all the built up energy in her legs, she launched herself to the left, diving outwards to the far side. The ball soared through the air. The shooter regained her balance and watched, as her aim was true. The ball soared through the air. The goalie dove. The players held their breath. The audience watched.

Crashing to the ground the goalie felt her weight on the green grass, her fingers still outstretched.
Crashing to the ground the goalie looked back at the shooter standing once again.
Crashing to the ground the ball finished stretching the netting on the back of the goal to the right.

In an instant, a split second, a decision had to be made. In an instant, a split second there would be a right and a wrong.
In an instant there would be a winner and a loser.
The crowd threw up a big cheer, some looked to the sky. The shooter reached an euphoric sensation as her teammates rushed. The ball rested motionless.
Slowly the goalie raised herself up from the ground, defeat written on her face. A bead of sweat rolled down the bridge of her nose.

It's only a game, but as in life there has to be a winner and today the shooter would know the feeling of victory. If only to savour the feeling for but a week, until the next match, the next battle. If only until once again the opponents would lace up the shoes, dawn the uniforms and take to the field in hope of victory.