The Whistle Blows

• Tianna Hudson , Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2020

The sweat runs down my face
My opponent looks me in the eye
I gare at her
The whistle blows

Left foot first she follows I grab the pass
My opponent’s body slams against mine
The whistle blows
I drop the ball and run

I jump for the pass
I turn then push the ball off my hands
The next player pulls in the pass
Pivots, we all shout bend and flick

The shot goes in
The crowd roars
One hard painful pass to the centre
I look my opponent in the eye