“Come on. Come on.”
I kept muttering after the ball bounced off my foot after that controlled kick I did. The rest of my teammates on the pitch stared at the direction the ball went to—our rival’s penalty box. At the corner of my eyes, Coach Sevilla is standing up with hands buried in his thinning hair while the subs stood beside him, mouths agape with incredulity.
Just then, the shrill sound of the whistle marked the end of this year’s college soccer season. Not a single player on the field moved. It felt like we were all wrapped inside a timewarp bubble where everything stood still while the rest of the world continued on.
I glanced at the gigantic scoreboard and watched as the numbers changed from 6-6 to 6-7 but I can’t seem to comprehend what it meant. As the entire stadium seemed t
