Riley Edwards
Dr. Birkenstock
Creative Writing
21 January 2014
The Pentagon
It was in the winter of my first grade year, and soccer season was underway. My coach was also the father of one of my fellow players, Earl. Earl and I had known each other since we were in pre-k. He was the goalie for our team, and probably one of the best in the league. The game was about to start and his father was kicking some balls into the goal to get him warmed up. The game was now starting and we all got on the field and into our positions. Since we had just enough guys to play, everyone got to be a starter. I was the teams left midfielder, it was a posititon that required a lot of running but it was ok because I was small and scrawny.
“Wrong side,” said Carter, one of my fellow teammates, he was the right midfielder and I was in his spot. I went back over to my corner and before I even had time to pause, the game started. The first half of the match was pretty uneventful, Earl blocked two shots and Carter took a shot on the opposing goal but didn’t score. The second half however, was one of the best games I had ever played. In the beginning I scored my first goal, not only in that game, but in the entire season. It was one of the best feelings I had ever had. When we took a small break for water, our coach came up to me, patted me on the back and jokingly said, “Hey, that’s why you’re a starter.” After that we got back on the field and continued the game. I was playing great defense when we returned. Then suddenly I had the ball all the way on my teams side of the field. I started to run with it and look for someone who was open, but nobody was. So I continued running down field until someone tried slide tackling me. I split to the right and dodge his slide tackle. I was beginning to get more and more nervous as nobody became open. “Im open,” carter yelled, which was mistake because now everyone ran over to cover him. However this left me wide open, just me one man, and the goal. I ran down and cut to the left, my heart was pounding against my ribs, my eyes were stinging from all the sweat, but at that very moment, I wasn’t nervous. I swung my foot towards the left side of the goal, but missed on purpose. The goalie jumped over to block the shot that he thought I was taking. Then I shot right in the wide open space left for me by the goalie. That was it, the match was over. The whole team huddled around to cheer since we won 2-0.
the fourth match in which I received my first ball. It was the start of the fall season and the trees had just
began to change colors. So everything around the field had that yellow hue. The sun was shining
through the branches and all over the field were gold specks reflecting off of the dew from the grass.
The game had just ended and my coach had us huddle around him. I wasn’t paying attention because I
was making funny faces at my friend, Charles, who was our goalie. Then everyone started clapping
and the coach said, “Come on up here kid-o,” while looking directly at me. I walked into the middle of
the huddle. I could feel everyone’s eyes staring at me. The only thing I wanted was to know why, was I
in trouble, I wondered. “How about a round of applause for our MVP, everyone,” Coach said. I let out
a sigh of relief as he handed me the game ball. “Giggles Sandbox” was written on the big, flat portion
of the ball. It wasn’t pretty, there were scuffs all over from being kicked around by my teammates, and
the black pentagons were so dingy they looked almost white, but I wasn’t worried about that, it meant
much more to me than met the eye, because I earned it.
