Descriptive Essay About Soccer

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Sun Tzu said, “The Art of War is a road to either safety or to ruin.” Safety gives you bragging rights but ruin evicts the will to come back. To soccer aficionado, every game is like going to war. Each team prepares during warm-up to face off against their opponent. Every stretch, pass, and dribble is meticulously orchestrated to ensure victory. The general stands at attention, barking orders, and strategizing attacks. Today’s game is no different. Like the Japanese General Hideki Tojo, Coach Stephen commands us to stand at attention as he “delivers” the starting line-up. Similarly, across the field, Coach Juan resembles the American General Eisenhower as he moves cones on the ground like toy soldiers. As a team, we sweep non-soccer …show more content…
Screams for the ball and teammates hollering to mark their opponent tightly, fade in the background of parents trying to coach from the sidelines. It is a fight evenly matched between both teams. I feel unstoppable, the fresh taste of sweat dripping from my face, tricking onto my tongue as I dribble the ball down the field. The crunch of grass under my cleats, fills my head, loud and clear with each step that I take. Reconnaissance shows me exactly where the goal stands and where my opponents stand, ready to strike. There is no protection from the blazing sun. Sweat permeates my uniform and collects in my hands. The Allies wants a quick win so they can move on to Recovery. He sends his deadliest weapon against me, a player named Baker. The warning sirens, red and flashing, go off in my head as I hear the coach yelling to “Get her! Get HER!”, but I ignore them and continue dribbling the ball down the …show more content…
Still dribbling forward, I quickly lift my head searching for the goal one last time. Overwhelmed with the scent of her sweat as she tugs on my jersey to hold me back, I yell for back up. I continue to hear the general coming to “Get her! Get her! Don’t let her score!” Baker quickly accelerates across the grass. Panicking, I prepare to shoot the ball. My temporarily forgetting the imminent threat. My body goes into autopilot from years of training…“Cut right, pull back , plant left foot swing right leg back—” I’m snapped out of my thoughts, when I feel Baker’s knee slam into me. Her leg crash into my knee and her arms shove me down. The impact throws me off my feet. Falling to the ground, I glance up at the clear blue sky and imagine practice flight missions over me. All the tension is released from my body. As I hit the grass underneath me, it is like a strong flash of light and warm hear wave striking against my left ACL. Little Boy made impact and I was not

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