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english descriptive essay- The Match

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The Match - Descriptive Writing All of us were extremely excited because of this match. It was the most important one we somehow had win. We had waited for it for eight months, which we spent with rigorous training knowing that the tournament would not be easy. This tournament was the real test of my soccer skills. Tiny, but sharp needles of rain drops were falling on us as we were running towards our transport vehicle with our heavy kit bags and studs* which were making us slip on the wet and shiny grass. The fresh smell of rain mixed with soil was tangling my nose but I had to move on to win my match and take a further step in my dream of becoming the best soccer player. The rusted fifteen seat bus was bouncing along the tattered road to the famous Shackshire stadium where our most important soccer match was to be held. Whoosh was the sound of our small bus' dented wheels as it drove at a high speed over the newly formed rain puddles. This was the only sound heard as all the eleven players, one disinterested manager, our coach and five hired cheerleaders were still, making the over packed bus feel like a silent funeral. ...read more.


I started off with the warm ups. I was running around 4 red cones for about an hour. I was so exhausted and my legs were aching awfully. How would I play the match now? But I think that warm up did help. I was now tired but more confident. A break of 10 minutes and an energy drink would bring me back to normal. I then went on to practice the passes, lobs and shots. Shooting was a difficult and a tricky technique though seemed simple. The correct power, angle and the time was what was needed for that perfect shot. Even world famous soccer player Maradona could not always be accurate, I being an amateur. I kept the ball on the white line drawn of chalk and focused on the bottom section of the football. I went back 5 steps and at an approximate angle of 45 degrees to the left. I hopped towards the ball and shooting with out-step (outer side of foot) kicked the ball as hard as I could. I missed. I knew it that I should not have kicked so hard but this was practice and I could improve myself only here. ...read more.


"Excellent Shot" was every ones compliment. BahamaBoyz had such a terrible expression and their coach was also down on the ground with both his hands on his face. Tiny tear droplets were running down his face but my coach was going insane. He had the tournament cup and the prize money. Everything was perfect when I made the biggest mistake of my life. I shouted out abuses to the captain of BahamaBoyz, which stung him real hard and he ran towards me and with his baseball bat. It was a spur of the moment reaction and I was totally unprepared for it. He hurled the baseball bat towards me. The baseball bat was in the air, cutting through the wind. It hit me hard on my right shattering it and my dream of becoming the best soccer player ever. The shin was completely shattered internally as I was picked up by my teammates as we entered the broken bus. I was in unbearable pain as we drove by the Bahamaboyz hoping to never ever see those ugly faces ever again. This was the match, the one important match of my life which marked itself in the pages of my life history as I could never play soccer ever again in my life. Word Count- 1548 ?? ?? ?? ?? ...read more.

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