They call it the beautiful game,, but right now the butterflies in my stomach are anything but beautiful.I am the last line of defense. The attacker is running towards my castle – the 18 yard box The goal is the attacker’s ultimate treasure and I will protect it at any cost. 

As soon as he sets into foot into my castle he shoots with all his might. it’s nerve racking as the ball leaving the strikers foot 1 and half a second later into my hands into a catch then a couple seconds later I punted it 2/3 of the field.  Bnjgcq this is soccer.pressure,excitement slow motion time slows down when for me there is nothing better than making a save. 

As the ball zooms through the air, the butterflies fly away. Time slows down and my reflexes launch me off the turf towards the top corner of the goal.  My mind is now in the zone, the nervousness is gone, now replaced with confidence, enthusiasm and pride. Calamity turns to calm. All my hard  work is about to pay off.  

My mind automatically calculates the trajectory of the ball. know I’m going to leap and catch the ball, I know I’m going to make a great play, I know the crowd is about to cheer.

It fells like a crisis has been averted. The sheet is clean. The game is beautiful.