THE CHAMPION

The pass comes in hard and fast. The opponents are still reorganizing themselves, their defense is in disarray. Peter pelts down the right flunk at full tilt. Everyone is dazed. For a moment, no one reacts to his action. It is only when he gets to the halfway line that his teammates react by trying to gear up to his pace.

To his left, the line has formed a neat diagonal. The opponents try to counter it by pressing in a straight line. The wing is not yet covered so he has plenty of room. He dashes on. Pause, duck, jump further to the right. A body goes flying past him. He fakes a pass to the left. The winger who had hoped to stop him trips as he follows the ball. A gap opens. More ground to cover. More room for him to run. He jumps through it and runs on.

The principal on the sidelines, normally cool calm and collected, jumps up and down, flails and yells at the top of his lungs. It seems unnatural. “No time to judge him,” Peter thinks. Ten yards from the line and the paths blocked. Fake number two. He let the ball hung in the air, pulls back his as though to kick it. The defender in front of him turns and clears the way.

            “Fool,” Peter shouts after him.

He snatches the ball out of the air and dashes on. He feels a hand try to reach for his jersey but was sure he was safe. His lungs burn, muscles ache, and fingers hurt but he has to get there. The full back is closing in on him from the left. He feels the urge to dive surge in him. He fights it back. Two yards away and he begins to count his steps. Step one, bodies collide behind him. He doesn’t look. Step two, the cheering squad shouts “TRRYYY!!” Step three, the full back is almost in front of him. He is a vicious, so precision and technique are necessary. Step four, goose step. He leaps into the air, dares to both his flunks, ball grasped in his right hand. The fullback knows he could easily hand it off to another player so he hesitates. Peter smiles, charges forward, stretching his arm to mask the fullback face as he pushes him aside, then dives.

The two are in mid air. Silence. Peter swings his other arm over the line. Tension. They both fall with a thud. The whistle blows. Cheers. The referee called it. The try is good. The final whistle sounds and they are national champions in the fifteen tournament. Pandemonium. He is still reeling from all the adrenaline when his teammates hoist him of the ground. Peter drinks in every bit of the moment. He is king. Forget the pain. Forget the exhaustion. He is king.