Walking off the field I looked around knowing this was my final game in middle school. Some people cried and others laughed leaving the last soccer field knowing their 8th grade soccer career was over, but I didn't do either. I was more in favor of silently leaving and waited till I got home to express any emotion. It was the fall of 2019 and my 8th grade soccer season was veering to an end, my team had been successful with past sports experiences and they knew I would be a threat on the field. The regular season was very eventful, I dominated the field in almost every game due to my size advantage and knowledge of the sport. My team was amazing and we had all been playing with each other since 3rd grade. The night of May 27 was terrible, with lots of aggressive rainfall the fields would be muddy and slippery and I was not looking forward to that. I woke up May 28 ascending from my bed ready to hit the field. We would play at least 2 games total because it was double elimination. The first game we played was against Gilmanton, they were a very young and small team so we won that game confidently. The second game we played was against Pittsfield, they had a kid named T.J who self-claimed himself as the best player in the league earlier in the year. The game after he said that he played against us. We won 7-1 and they left the field embarrassed. It was clear that his claim was invalid and he needed a slice of humble pie. One of the other players was someone I formed a good bond with on the field, we cracked jokes with each other and he was a very good defender. We beat them in the playoffs but it was the worst game ever. Our whole team continuously fell in the giant mud pit near the center circle caused by the storm the night before. My cleats were enveloped in mud and the frigid, sharp fall breeze that pierced your skin like an arrow didn't help. Moving into the championship game against Concord Christian academy I had the worst feeling in my stomach, like I just drank acid. They were an amazing team and I had played them several times before In past championships, every year the winner changes. Their team was very experienced and they all had an excellent idea of how to play the game. I knew several kids on the other team and I knew most of them played for other travel teams that are very particular about who plays. At kickoff the tension was at an all time high, the first half was boring with back and forth possession and no goals for anybody. The second half was much different, about 5 minutes in they scored a goal and that hurt. The half was winding down with about 2 minutes left and I received an excellent pass and I took a shot that could make or break the season. It goes in, I roar to the sky as if I was yelling at the gods knowing we were still in the game. The half ends and we go into overtime, first to score wins. The first 2 minutes were boring and nothing vital happened, Then they got a corner kick and the butterflies in my stomach were going crazy. They kicked it and one of their players just tapped it into our goal. It was all over, as they were celebrating while I was just looking around knowing my final middle school soccer season ended just like that. After the game trophies were handed out and I just sat there thinking about every other possible outcome of the game. I went home and hung up the pictures we received in little gift bags and sat down and realized I accepted the outcome and there wasn't anything I could do to change it. In the long run I realized the experience was amazing and I wouldn't have wanted it to go any other way.
The End of a Perfect Season
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