Scoring Goals

I love to score goals. Unfortunately, it is not a common occurence.

It was not always so. As a younger man, I found the net with effortless ease. It was a fulfilling time. Alas, it did not last. My prolific touch abandoned me.

Jaded by my pathetic whines, my friends sought to lend aid and advice. I did not take enough chances, I did not put myself into shooting positions, I did not shoot nearly enough, I needed more confidence. Some even questioned my desire. Whispered rumours suggested it was all an act. I had no real desire to get on the scoresheet, desiring instead the self-inflicted psychological flagellation.

The drought is over. The rains came two weeks ago.

In a hastily arranged fixture in the last few minutes against a rival team, the ball was at my feet at the edge of the box beyond the back four with no offside.

I let fly.

I do not talk about getting goals as much now. My friends have even noticed me changing off the subject at times. I am much happier. It feels natural, and I can sense a few more on the horizon.