the secret of my shöt...
-by gasper crasto...03/07/2003
"A
player's popularity is temporary; applauded today, forgotten tomorrow."
-T.
Shanmugam, Olympian and former coach of
Salgaocars - Goa.
It was the finals of our village inter-ward
football tournament.
I was one of the spectators
witnessing the battle royal played between my ward, which had huffed and puffed
their way to the final, against the formidable three-times champion ward having
Mykel, our village superstar in the team.
The referee blew the
whistle and the match began.
My ward being the
underdogs were pushed on the
back foot right from the kick-off.
The opponents
dominated the game, their think-tank Mykel being at the helm, but thank God,
somehow we managed to keep the ball away from entering our net. Our goalkeeper
too was at his best.
Scoreboard at halftime: 0-0.
Second half, the
opponents just pounced on us virtually camping in our territory; a goal against
us looked imminent any moment.
Then a
'blessing-in-disguise' disaster struck our team. One of our players got
injured and had to be taken off the field. To rub salt to injury, the
substitute players had some row with our captain and refused to play.
With no alternative left, our team officials desperately looked out for someone from the
ward to replace the injured player (the
rules on fielding of players were no so strict; anyone from their respective
wards could play).
Time was running out.
The ref was blowing his lungs out to get on with the game. Just then, the
poor captain spotted me. He ordered me to get on the field immediately. I
was virtually dragged.
Never before had I kicked a
ball with booted feet before; in fact a total ignorant to the game. I stepped into a pair
of hurriedly arranged football shoes, which were much bigger
than my actual shoe size.
I entered the field touching
the ground and making a customary sign of the cross.
I was so excited, I ran non-stop to the
continuous screams of our supporters directed at me, 'run, run..' However, after a
while I realized I was simply running
like a fool.
For nearly 10 minutes the ball eluded me. I was hoping the ball
would come and hit me atleast, but it never came. Then, I thought the best thing would be to run to the
ball. I waited my chance.
There was a scuffle
of players in the opponent's area just after the centre circle and I saw the ball rolling idly towards me. Without wasting a second I dashed
forward and kicked the ball as hard as I could towards the opponent's goal
-- falling down flat in the process.
I was sure the
ball would not even pass between the flag poles leave alone the goal posts. But to everyone's surprise, the ball zoomed off into the far corner
of the opponent's net.
Next second, I
realized we had scored a goal off my shot. Our team went into euphoria. I
was hugged and kissed and lifted.
“What a shot,”
someone remarked while another one asked, “What a curling shot, is it a banana kick?”
I had no idea when
the match ended, cause rest of the game I was just too stunned by the
goal. I was puzzled how the ball could swing so much and crash inside the
goal. I had actually expected the ball to hit the nearby coconut trees at
the most.
We won the final by
that lone goal. Everyone showered praises and congratulated me. I was placed on
cloud nine.
Some of the old folks
remarked they had not seen a better goal scored since the Portuguese times.
Till today, some say it was more exceptional than the overrated Roberto
Carlos' free-kick against France in the 1997 Tornoi de France... :)
Everyone wanted to
know the secret behind my shot but I just smiled, as I myself was still baffled.
I was sorry for Mykel
the superstar who had lined up to compliment me on the
great accomplishment. He too wanted to know the secret.
Just then, the guy
who had lent me his boots came to collect them.
As I bent down to
untie the laces, everybody around saw the secret mystery behind my curving
shot -- I had the right shoe worn on the left foot, and left shoe on the
right!..
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