A TRADGETIC DAY

The day I had been waiting for finally arrived. I woke up excited. And ready for the day’s events. it was the finals. The Eagles were to tackle Super Strikas in their final match. We, the Eagles players were excited. We all muttered silent prayers as we got ready to play that title winning match. We put on our sparkling jerseys and stealthily walked into the field.

“Listen boys, this is our title winning challenge. Take heart and have courage for we will emerge tops. We have to try with vim and ire to defeat out worthy adversary, ” said the coach.

As I was gulping down some water to wet my bone dry tongue I recalled. The previous games events had kicked off as early as dew on the grass was evaporating. We had ruthlessly attacked the goalkeeper when rte slackened. Our bodies seemed to work like oiled pistols. Our efforts truly bore fruit when our striker Jim, with the precision of a pharmacist and the accuracy of a surgeon spectacularly curled the ball into the net. Alas, all the goalkeeper could do was escort it into the goal mouth.

As I was jogging on the pea green lever grass, the fans erupted into cheers. The referee quickly set the ball rolling and our opponents took possession of the ball. +Their striker, a tall lanky lad in his early teens dribbled the ball skillfully past our defense. With only the goalkeeper to beat, he laughed sardonically, he drilled the ball into the back of the net with such force that we were    

bewildered with our mouths wide open. What soon followed was a neck to neck battle. Beads of perspiration dripped from our faces. Swift passes and thorough balls were the order of the day I       

     was sure we were giving the fans their money’s worth.

lt was what they had paid for; A clash of the titans.

Hall way through the second half we doubled our efforts and managed to make our goals two. Our opponents the Supa Strikas alias the Supas were breathing on our necks. They did nothing to conceal their anger but played as if their lives depended on it.

The game continued with much vigor. The atmosphere was electric. By then the ball was like a blurry figure shifting from this foot to the other. lt was a fight to death. We had to fight

 tooth and nail to win. ‘Tang!’ went the loud bang that could arouse the dead. The ball had hit our

   post and rebounded. The issuer of the shot was none other than Olung their striker. Olung went   

   for the ball which was in no man’s land. We were all scared crossing our fingers so that he could   

   miss the shot. Our hopes were shattered when the ball was wrapped snuggly in our net. We

     were one goal down. The final whistle was blown.

‘Pheep!’ the whistle was blown shrilly by the referee to usher in extra time. We were although hopes when our striker Odul was brought in. He had insisted on getting in on seeing our hopeless state. He threw caution to the winds disregarding the fact that his heart was faulty.

By ill. Omer. The worst occurred. Just as he had snaked through the Supas defense line he fell to his knees. lt hit me there and then that he was gone. Odul had succumbed to cardiac arrest. I rubbed my eyes to ascertain that I was not dreaming. Fans and players alike mourned the death of a soccer king. Not even a sea of tears could bring him back. May the almighty rest his soul.