reach.

                If you think I’m trying to be cocky, don’t read this. If you think you’re better at soccer than me, you probably are. If you think you’re an intelligent person yet you don’t usually see the lesson in a long but simple story, log off. That being said…

Everybody has a moment or two that is stuck in their memory, tattooed on their minds. These moments are what define us. They're like a map to who we are, telling us what in our lives we consider important and worthy of multiple mental replays. There is always a lesson to be learned in what we accomplish; this is mine.

It was the biggest game of the season. I’m not just saying that. It seriously was. The smell of the warm summer night air filled our determined lungs while we jogged the length of the freshly cut soccer field in the stadium of Johnny Cake, warming up our muscles in preparation. We all knew the capability of our team; there was no doubt that we could do this if we played to our potential. The bright stadium lights, along with the pressure, were now on us.

This game was the game that would determine our placement for the coming year. Win this game and we move up a level next season. The stadium was packed full of families and friends, people I was not about to let down. The game whistle blew; the game started.

              First half passed quickly, we were tied at halftime. The mosquitos were now biting, and second half was beginning. We made our way down and back on the field, fighting, holding our own. There was now about ten minutes left in the game. I knew this was it; no more chances after the ending whistle blew. 

I had never wanted something so bad.

I was back in the defensive half of the field; the ball was being fought over about halfway up in the offensive. All of a sudden, it was a loose ball, played to the center- straight into a gap. Somehow I decided, right then and there, that this was my ball. I took off, without thinking. It was far, so far away, but all I knew was that it was mine- it didn’t matter that I was half a field-length behind it.

                  I still remember that feeling. I have never run that hard in my life. 
                 
                 Sure, I had been in track freshman and sophomore year, and even though I could not have cared less about it back then, I was decent. But never before had I felt the way I did on that field. The line on a track, marked ‘finish,’ and the rolling ball in a small but very open gap… these are two very different things, goals, motivators. Here and now on the soccer field, I had a purpose; a destination, somewhere I needed to be.

My heart pounded, the noise of the crowd faded away, and each stride I took propelled me closer to that ball. I had nothing in my mind, nothing, except for the thought that I would get there first. It was my ball.

My long legs covered that field faster than ever before, closing the space rapidly. Nobody saw me coming, but all of a sudden, I was there. I tapped the ball just in time, right before the Minneapolis defense got the chance to clear it. I had won. I had beaten everyone else to that ball. It was mine.

                  I’d like to be able to say that I broke away, shot, scored, and gave autographs out after the game. However, my momentum ended up crashing right into their defense, causing me to summersault through the air and onto the ground. I remember seeing stars of blackness when I stood up; I had no idea where the ball was as my teammate came up to me. I remember hearing “Dang, good run manda,” but not being able to get words out of my mouth. I was so confused. That run, along with the fall, had taken everything I had out of me. I mean… At least we got the call.

                  In the end, we won the game. It was amazing, but what I remember most was not the score on the board. It was the crazy feeling of truly giving it my all that has stayed with me. I work hard and try my best in most everything that I do, but this time I had brought out of myself what I didn’t even know I had.

                  The people that came up to me after that game were dumbfounded, trying to figure out where I had come from to get to that ball, amazed at the speed they didn’t know anyone on the team had. It’s funny, because it just sounds like a simple run, but probably any one of my teammates or anyone watching that game knows and remembers this play. 

                  All of this is very flattering, but it’s not what made the night so memorable for me. It was merely the fact that for me and only me, that run was a mark of progress, the ability to go further and harder than I knew was possible. I can’t explain it on paper; to many it’s just one run, one night, one instant in time. That’s okay with me though, you don’t have to understand it. What matters is that I understand it. That moment, that one moment, shows me that I am capable of much more than I’m aware. It tells me that I can do anything, get to any finish line, if I feel the determination. I learned to never let anyone tell me how fast I can’t run, how good I can’t be, the places life can’t take me. When I know what I want, nobody stands in the way. Try and faze me. I dare ya.