the golden goal

i was playing soccer on the big field and my father was watching. he never shouted a word of of protest or encouragement but i knew he was there. i could feel his eyes. i knew i was never going to be good enough to be a pro and i knew he did as well. still, i had received a good ball fairly deep in opposition territory and i wanted to impress him (and maybe even prove us both wrong?) i broke toward the one defender in front of me but overshot. i watched the ball get away from me before it bounced off his body. this happened two or three times before i finally managed to get a step on him. i cut right and to the centre. except instead of trying a shot i simply feathered a pass square to my brother, who i had only caught last second dangling in my peripheral vision. it felt like a leap of faith- the same way he had barreled up the field despite the strong odds i would either lose the ball or decide to shoot. he finished perfectly. we celebrated wholeheartedly and hugged, like nothing else mattered.