Whenever Roger gazed at his precious gold trophy, sitting on his bedroom shelf, he would instantly get lost in the memory of that unforgettable soccer match.
On that fateful day, ominous and dark clouds hung in the sky, signalling imminent rain. Bob, the notorious school bully, sauntered over to a seemingly vulnerable victim, Roger, trying to extort some money from him.
“Hey, rat! Hand over all your money! Or else…” Bob cracked his knuckles menacingly.
Roger simply ignored him and walked away. Just as thunder struck and the torrential downpour began, another violent storm brewed inside Bob. Seething with rage, Bob threw a punch at Roger’s stomach. Surprised, Roger dodged the blow and walked away. Bob, infuriated, bellowed to Roger that his refusal to heed his demands would be settled in the upcoming inter-class soccer match.
“Tweet!” The shrill sound of the starting whistle cut through the air. It was the day of interclass match, and there were two teams in the finals, Bob’s Bulls and Roger’s Royals. While waiting for the starting whistle, Bob brandished his large fists while sporting a cruel, evil smile.
“Come on, wimp!” Bob hurled an insult at Roger, “You can’t beat me!”
Roger, a muscular boy, glared at Bob to make him clam up, but to no avail. Bob just sneered haughtily in response which just motivated Roger to do even better in this match. When the whistle sounded, everyone erupted into activity. Roger sprinted like the wind, making a beeline for the ball. He did a few tricks and passed the ball to Jim, his loyal friend. Jim slammed his foot into the ball and whoosh, the ball hit the net. The team’s supporters groaned as Jim made a grave mistake: it was an own goal!
“Bob’s Bulls 1, the Novice Royals 0!”
Roger’s supportive uncle yelled from the spectator stand. “Come on Roger! Show them what you’ve got!” Upon hearing that shout of encouragement, Roger grew more determined to win the match.
“Never mind, Jim, it’s ok. We can still win.” Roger whispered to Jim, while patting his back. The spectators on the stand were all murmuring uncertainly among themselves.
It was Bob’s turn to start the ball. Charging like a bull, Bob ran forward knocking everyone out of the way. He kicked the ball as hard as he could, and the ball smashed into the goal.
“2-0!” Roger’s uncle groaned as he threw his hands up.
Things were looking bleak for the Royals. They had not scored a single goal and were very tired of running around rampantly. Roger dribbled the ball forward wearily and passed it to Jim. Jim, seeing an open goal, sent a flying ball into the Bull’s goal.
“Yay! 2-1!” Roger shouted zestily. He felt totally energized – his adrenaline had kicked in. Roger ran like an Olympic Sprinter all the way to Bob’s goal. He jumped up and hit the ball with his foot as fast as he could. The ball went zooming into the goal and Roger felt a surge of hope. They had a chance to win after all.
There were 30 seconds left on the clock and it was Bob’s turn to start the ball. Once again, he charged forward. Roger nimbly kicked the ball with his foot. With only five seconds left on the clock, it looked like it was going to be a draw. But at the last moment, Roger let out a defiant roar and kicked the ball as far as he could. Two seconds… the ball is… one second… in the goal! The ball miraculously slammed into the net at the last second. Roger’s team had won!
Every Royal’s supporter came streaming down into the field and carried Jim and Roger onto their shoulders. It was the best day of Roger’s life!
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