It was then time for lunch – which is when it happened. The incident which I still remember vividly to this day. The one thing lasting less than one second which turned this day from enjoyable to, well… unenjoyable.
I was walking from the lower half of the school to the upper half which is where the lunch hall was. I was still talking heatedly to people about the day’s eventfulness, when an unprovoked attack from a wasp caught me right underneath the eye. It was very painful. Very VERY painful.
I was taken to First Aid and my parents were informed. I stayed there for the entirety of the lunch break and into the afternoon lesson. When I rejoined the group I sat down in silence. I wasn’t in the same mood that I was in in the morning – I was more embarrassed by what happened now that the pain had gone. I could tell that people were talking about me. I suppose after one day those people who just an hour ago I was talking to weren’t friends at all, as a group looked over at me and then broke into laughter. The afternoon dragged on until eventually home time arrived and I was greeted, but also interrogated by my parents. ‘Does it hurt?’ ‘Did they give you something for it?’ ‘Do you need to lie down?’ I know that they care but I wished that they would leave me be. Their fussing actually made me feel worse. It didn’t hurt but they made me feel like I was faking it with all these questions.
Finally they let me go to my room where I lay down thinking about the day I had just encountered. And to this day, that remains, the most embarrassing day of my life.
Story of Achievement
‘A Special Sporting Success’
I have always been a fan of the Beautiful Game. When I was a young, carefree nine year old I signed up for my hometown under 10 football club – Ilminster Town expecting a bit of fun, a weekly kick about down the rec. What I didn’t realise, is that this club, and the game, would become a near obsession for me.
I remember the day, clear as crystal. Mike Bond coached the side. He was the father of one of my closest friends, who was also on the team, and unsurprisingly, always got picked. My mum and dad accompanied me down to the pitch where they paid a meagre five pounds which allowed me to play for the entirety of the season. This led directly into my first training session – and it was exactly as I had imagined. There were a few balls dotted around the pitch and we basically divided up and played a few games. I felt satisfied with what I did after the hour was up, and looked forward to the next training session.
My debut for the team was the last of the team’s pre-season friendlies. (I had missed the rest through a family holiday). The game was Ilminster Town vs. Chard Avishayes, the team’s main rivals, not just because they were fairly equal in talent – the best teams in the league, but also because they were neighbouring towns. It seems silly talking about this ‘huge’ rivalry as if it were Arsenal and Manchester United but the team, me especially, were looking toward the game with as much hype as the FA Cup Final.
After what seemed like a lecture-team-talk from Mike, the two teams marched out of the changing rooms like troops going into battle, in front of the twenty-something people watching, which included my dad.
The game started on an even footing, both teams losing possession every few seconds because lets face it, there were no Ronaldos or Thierry Henrys on the pitch that cold, wet Sunday morning.
The matches for the under 10 league only lasted about twenty minutes each way because no-one had the energy, or the determination to go any longer.
So anyway, after a few minutes of embarrassingly-poor possession by both sides, one of the Avishayes defenders slipped over into a muddy puddle, allowing Ilminster captain Louis Rideout to run onto it, myself running square alongside. Louis was one of the fastest players on the team, and I was not, so I was finding it hard to keep up the pace.
However, he played a perfectly weighted pass straight to my feet. I was one on one with the ‘keeper – it seemed as if even I couldn’t miss, but being so nervous I almost did. I slipped just as I went to strike, missing the ball completely. I was incredibly embarrassed, but luckily the ball splattered in the mud, leaving me with another chance to score. This time I poked it professionally into the corner of the net. Goal. One-nil to the good.
The game restarted and it immediately turned upside down. Avishayes got an early equaliser, then a second, and then a third in quick succession. I was substituted just before half time when Chard scored a fourth.
The team appeared subdued, but I was over the moon. I had only been playing about a quarter of an hour, on my debut, and I had scored! I was slightly disappointed that I had been taken off for no clear reason-but Mike assured me that I would be playing again later in the match, and my confidence was reinstated.
Second half began and Ilminster were as bad as when the first half ended, seconds in and we were 5-1 down.
I was eager to get back onto the pitch and score some goals but Mike insisted ‘Later.’ I didn’t want to bombard him with questions-he was clearly in a bad mood as Ilminster had just let in a sixth.
Still Mike showed no inclination of making a personnel change, and I didn’t wish to confront him about it. He was now isolated from friends and parents alike, fuming about the team’s incompetence, he looked like a bomb about to explode.
Avishayes celebrated their seventh goal as the eleven children representing Ilminster’s royal blue hung their heads in shame, careful to look away from Mike who, red as beetroot, was eyeing them like a hawk.
I had now lost all confidence in the fact that I may be substituted. Ilminster were too far behind for a comeback and there were surely only a couple of minutes remaining on the clock.
As I looked around however, I caught Mike’s eye. He studied me for a second, before motioning for me to come to him. He again stared at me. It was as if he could see more than a mere child looking back at him, wearing an old muddy football kit. He muttered to me:-
‘I’m not expecting any miracles from you, but I am going to stick to my promise. Hopefully you can inject some life into the team. Ready?’
I nodded, and he acknowledged this, replying with the ever-so slightest of smiles. I am sure he felt closer to me more so than any other member of the side, excluding of course, his son.
The ball went out for a corner to Ilminster as Mike caught the referee’s attention. He made the signal and I was on. My potential moment of glory awaited if I could head the ball home. The cross was to perfection, and it was drifting directly toward me. As I jumped, it seemed as if everything was going in slow motion. I connected excellently with the ball. I looked; it was destined for the top corner, until a giant of a full back barely had to jump to nod it clear.
We all felt like that was it-our last chance for a consolation. But as we looked over at the coach, he gestured that there was three minutes remaining. The response to that hand signal was overwhelming. The entire team gained a new hope and played well enough to surpass even Mike’s high expectations. Tackles were superbly timed, passes were inch perfect – Avishayes were stunned silent, not to mention Mike, whose jaw had dropped several inches.
A thirty yard cross, which David Beckham himself would have been proud of was aimed at me and I controlled it well. I was on the right-hand side of the pitch, with Louis Rideout adjacent. This was a reminiscent scene of the earlier goal, only that Louis and I had switched roles. Remembering what Louis had done earlier so well, inspired me to try and do what he had previously performed. I slid the ball through the defenders legs, and then ran, perhaps faster than I had ever run before, after the ball. The defender had no chance of catching me as I approached the penalty area. I looked up, and seeing that Louis was in space I played a sublime pass straight to his feet as he smashed it into the top-right hand corner.
Despite the fact that we lost the game miserably, we left the game in high spirit. I was awarded the prestigious Man of the Match award, as the whole team congratulated me.
I climbed into bed so overjoyed that night; the award was on my desk. I fell asleep peacefully, dreaming about the season that patiently lay ahead.
