Nick Turner

Mrs. Belden

Honors English I

6 October 2014

The Love of the Game

Ricky and I are the closest of  friends. His house was my house and his food was my food. We also did everything together from going to church to playing soccer for our school. Our friendship was a family bond. He knew my secrets and I knew his.

It was the day of the state semi-finals and our team was in it. First time in school history. Ricky and I were the best on the team (by far) but, we were a good team in general. We were playing the Johnstown Bulldogs, who were the runners up from last year. They were a fantastic team and it would be a very hard game to win, but with the chemistry Ricky and I share, we will have a chance to win.

Right before I left his house to get ready for soccer, he told me to tell the coach he will be a little late.  “How come?” I asked him as I was hopping on my bike.

“ I have an urgent doctors appointment, they said they found something wrong with my heart. They don’t think it could be important though. I’ll see you later dude,” Ricky told me as I nodded and biked away.

* * *

Ricky showed up to the game with 5 minutes to spare, and he was out of breath already. He only ran in from the parking lot! “About time! It’s almost game time, suit up!” the coach told him as he was slipping his shin guards into his socks.

“I am ready  to destroy the Bulldogs coach. There is no way they will become champions nor runners up while we’re in their way,” Ricky said as the center ref blew his whistle to get the game on the road.

* * *

Ricky and I had a nice game plan. I would play him in the middle, he would turn the ball, then I would make my run down the right line and the outside back had no way of getting to me because of my speed. It was working out until #10, 6’4” center defender came into the game. Every time we tried to get through, we couldn’t. It was not possible. There were no gaps for Ricky to find. In the 76th minute, Ricky needed a sub. He was panting like a dog that had been running for hours. “Ricky, I know you’re tired but were gonna try one more time, we got this dude!” I told him as I patted his back and told him to get up.

Out of no where, Ricky finds a gap and we’re in. It was the perfect ball, sent to me down the line and with no struggle, I got the ball in the corner. The defender was sprinting at me. I was a zebra, and he was a cheetah. I had to take a touch, and it was magnificent. Self consciously, I served the ball to Ricky who was making a run into the box. “It’s there, it’s there!” I was thinking to myself. Ricky was about to make contact with the ball with his head, but the goalie came off his line, and made contact with Ricky. Crack. The sound of two bodies colliding filled the stadium. All was quiet. I could hear a pin drop.

The earth grabbed Ricky  and pulled him to the ground. He hit the ground so hard he could of shook the whole world. The ref did not blow his whistle so play resumed. The ball was rolling fast on the clean cut grass aiming towards me and I was still in shock.  I kept looking at Ricky, waiting for him to stand up and say “Man, that hurt,” or anything at all. But, it never happened. Coach Max ran on the field to check on Ricky. He turned him over and suddenly, life was sucked out of him. He stood up, shouting, “Call the squad, get a doctor, ANYTHING!”. This was when I got insanely nervous.  It felt like all time had stopped and I did not know what to do except look at him. He looked lifeless, and I started getting scary thoughts. What if he was lifeless?

At this time, I heard the sirens blaring and zooming down the road to our school. I knew it was bad, but I did not know it was this bad. The trainer stood up from Ricky, holding her stomach and she was as white as a ghost. There were tears flowing down her face. Then faint words flew out of her mouth, but I knew exactly what she had said. “It’s too late.”

* * *

Ever since that win last week, all the team wants to do is party. And when you’re a senior at my school, at parties, it’s all drinking. And I’m not into that, but the team wants me to get into it, to get my mind off Ricky and all that. I feel like that is the only way to get away from it. The depression is pulling me down and I’m not emotionally capable to play without him by my side. No one has our chemistry and no one ever will. I couldn’t go on like this, sad all the time and no one to express my emotions to. That was Ricky’s job. It was hard not to drink and I needed someone to fill the empty spot. I had a good idea to get me through this, but I didn’t know if it would work.

It was the day of the finals and I didn’t know if I was prepared enough to play. “Same, come down here we are waiting for you!” My mom shouted from the bottom of the steps.

“I’ll be down in a sec, I need to grab something real quick!” I yelled as a ruffled through all the junk in my closet, until I got the most important thing to me.

* * *

It was in second over-time when I got stressed out the most. I did not know what to do without my go-to man! Everyone else couldn’t play to my level and we were struggling. I needed a “break” from the game, so I got a sub. I was getting so nervous that I would get ejected from the game because I’m a very aggressive player and I already have a yellow card. I walked behind the bench and found my bag. Tears were filling my eyes as I reached into it and pulled out a jersey with #7 on the back. That was Ricky’s number. Indeed it was Ricky’s jersey. (Don’t worry I washed it and everything). There were 5 minutes left in the game, before pk’s, so we needed a goal. I slipped his jersey over my head and walked over to get subbed in. With the jersey on, I started to feel stronger than I ever have, even with Ricky on the field. The ball slipped out of bounds and the ref called me onto the field. It felt different, but it was a good different. Then I made eye contact with my dad in the stands, then he stood up slowly, hands hitting each other over and over.

Suddenly, everyone stood up, clapping and cheering for me on the field. Except one person and that brought more tears to my eyes. Chris Douglas was throwing the ball in and he threw it in right to my feet and I faked going left, then I went right and there was a gap. I slid the ball past the center back and ran onto it. I was in the box and the goalie was running at me. I did not even blink. Time stopped for a second and I aimed my shot for the goal. Somehow, the ball rolled under the goalie and hit the net. I’ve done it. I’ve scored the winning goal not for me, not for the team, not for my parents, but. For Ricky.

I knew I would get a yellow for this because this ref was the toughest in the world. But I did it anyway. I ripped off Ricky’s jersey and held it in my hand. Then, I started walking towards the bleachers, trying to find her. I walked up the steps, and just blurred out all the fans screaming and looked for Mrs. Zhang. Suddenly, the wheelchair caught my eye and I teared up as I was walking towards her. Once I reached her, I put my arms around her and knelt down. She was crying as well and I started to wipe away her tears with her sons jersey. I gave her one more hug then went back to the field.

Once I got there, the ref shown the red right in my face and it did not matter. Nothing mattered anymore. I just walked past him, smiling, and gripping the necklace around my neck. I almost forgot this before I came here, but I could never forget the gift Ricky gave me on my 11th birthday.