Take Me to the Promised Land By Nicholas Warrand
The season of sport has just begun. Doesn’t matter what sport: cricket, hockey, footy – all that matters is that it’s begun. Oranges have been sliced, water bottles filled, parents gossiping away, and you’re raring to go. That first game back takes a while to get into: passes aren’t connecting, people don’t communicate properly – it’s a mess. Training next week is gonna be hell. But hey, you’ve somehow scraped away with the win! Trainings are in full swing - maybe an extra one here and there just to get the team going. Your Dad takes you down to the park to work on some things. You both know you’re shit but that’s okay, you can get better.
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too big and strong and should never have been in this division – at least that’s what Mum says. There are a few games left in the season. You can still make it; you can still get there. One round left - win this game and you’re into the semis, lose and the season ends here. You’re not even at the big dance yet but boy, it sure feels like it. A good pass here, great defence there, and all of a sudden, you’re through! You’re calmer now for semis; there’s less pressure and this game is somehow the easiest of the season – it’s like they didn’t even want to be there, but you do. You can taste it. You can feel it.
Midway through the season and your team’s not looking too bad: won a few then lost that one because Erin went down south for no good reason. But overall, your team’s in a good position and you’re playing better each week.
Game day. For some reason your parents have bought your grandma down to watch. Your stomach does backflips. It’s that team: that one team you’ve struggled with all year, all past years, and you’ve been playing them every year now without a break.
You’ve now dropped a few games. One team demolished you because they were just way
The whistle blows and you’re off. The pace is faster, the team is meaner, your friends are
Number of letters in name = compatibility! Think Jim and Pam...
