One

• Alex Hegney, Grade 9
• Poetry
• 2019

Thousands of viewers, lights shining down, the wind is whistling, all around.
The crowd is alive, this noise is insane, and all I could think about was the sheer pain.
Exhaustion filled my body, fatigue overcame me, but then I flew, to the highest degree!
Graciously the footy glided, as I mustered all my power, several seemed startled, as I soared as high as a tower.
Then it reached my hands, gasps from loud to mere, I might have just taken, the mark of the year!
‘I am the king’! I thought with great pride, ‘quick, the games not over’, is what my teammate cried.
I eyed off an option, but no, he wasn’t free, but there, in the square, was a pack of three.
We had the numbers on our side, I bombed it, hoping for control, but no, the wind had picked it up, and it sailed through for a goal!
Sirens sounded with abrupt, the scoreboard was the summary, faces lit up, some stayed solemn, one game, one goal, one memory.