12 Yards

Euro 2012 starts today, so I decided to write a poem about the emotions of a football player.

12 yards

 

Everything appears to be in slow motion.

 

 

The tips of my fingers are throbbing from blood pressure that is shooting around my body, my heart feels weak, my ears are burning from intense heat and the inside of my stomach is filled with a family of butterflies.

 

 

I look at the football as it sits on the penalty spot. The goalkeepers eyes cut into my soul like razorblades. A sweat droplet slowly rolls down the bridge of my nose and then falls down and splashes on top of my boot. The referee puts the whistle to his mouth.

 

Everything appears to be in slow motion.

 

If I score this penalty it will bring joy to millions around the globe. Children in shantytowns to students in top universitys will emulate me in huge green parks and saffron coloured dusty roads. I will become as famous as the worlds greatest footballer, Lionel Messi, this will be my highpoint of my existence.

 

 A tiny moth hovers in front of one of the huge stadium lights. The referee finally blows his whistle…his cheeks expand like a bullfrog.

 

Everything appears to be in slow motion.

 

I run towards the ball, my calf muscles are burning like hot coals, my ears pop, a sweat droplet runs down my spine. There is a static silence around the stadium, in crowded bars, cafés, pubs and front rooms.

 

 

I strike the ball with the inside of my right foot!

  ©LukeRitta

Reviews

[Jack Isaac]

You see them play but you never what it's like until you've been there, and think this write is the next best thing to being there. Of course the sports announcer makes no mention of the sweat dropping from the brow, nor is there noticed a moth obstructing some tiny fraction of the lighting system, but it's the tiniest things that make all the difference -- the difference between playing and winning? Sure, but it's also the difference between nothingness and everything. I never thought about that until just now. Thanks, nice write.

[Tainted Devotion]

Incredibly descriptive. There is so much tension in this write, you could cut it with a knife like butter. I loved the emotions playing through this. Very nice write.

[Coyote Poetry]

Real sports are poetry in motion. To watch a talented person play a sport is a pleasure. I like the description. Seconds are hours in a real football game. Thank you for the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[Who Cares]

I am not a big fan of football however I can totally enjoy this poem. Your words flow and it sounds great. There is tension in your words and it is a nice effect. Very nice write

[Poetic Beauty]

Love the tension in the piece. Silence in living rooms, bars and so. This is done with clear detail and the thoughts are expressed transparently.

[Leslie Philibert]

I really like writing about sport, and this is well done, a nice piece, and the open end is exactly right, good writing

[Shy Girl]

Kicker...lol Nice!! I love football and you discribed that perfectly. (My brother is a high school coach now for over ten years :)