Kanpur-Gandhinagar-Bangalore-Calcutta

This post is dedicated to beautiful game of soccer and my childhood memories associated with it

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I was running. Panting. A drop of sweat followed a parabolic trajectory from my forehead to my cheeks. I was disturbed for a moment. I regained my concentration. Dribbled the ball avoiding the defenders. My breath was heavy, still I kept on running, scanning the ball and the defenders at the same time. It was two on one. I had one of my team mates - Abhimanyu on my left and goalkeeper infront. The goal should have been a cakewalk. I was now running from midfield to goalkeeper's area. Suddenly I heard Abhimanyu shouting- "Pass! Give me the pass! You won't be able to score. Give me the pass". I saw goalkeeper approaching. A straight forward kick would have been a goal. Again I hear the same words. In a split second, I passed skillfully to Abhimanyu. The goalkeeper was nowhere near. Abhimanyu netted the ball perfectly. I saw my team erupt. I,drenched in sweat, lied on ground facing the clear blue sky trying to regain my breathing. After few seconds, I stood up. Saw the team circling Abhimanyu. Picking him up. Abhimanyu was now sitting on the shoulders of teammates, giving a large grin to onlookers and abusing the opposition. I stood by the sideline. I felt like shouting- "It was my goal. I did all the hardwork. I did all the running. I did all the tackling. It was my pass damnit!"
Nobody noticed. The play started again.

We used to have 2 games period in class 5th. I was the best and most committed player of team. The problem was nobody noticed that. Since we were small kids, the concept of team work and playing selflessly was something incomprehensible. The one who scored the goal takes the glory. I somehow didn't understand why nobody realized that it always used to be my hardwork. The strategy of my team, Ganga House(dawned in color Blue) was simple- somehow give the ball to me, I will take the ball from our goalkeeper to opposition goalkeeper, give the pass to Abhimanyu and he'll have the final word.

Jab tu ball le ke jaata hai goal tak to marta kyon nahin?one of my friends asked.
Yaar Abhimanyu bahut jor se shot maarta hai. Dekha hai. Uske paas wo nails(spikes) waale shoes bhi hain. Main kahan se goal kar paaonga.

I hastily walked away from him. I knew he was right. Abhimanyu was rock star of our class while I was just a sideline player.

I reached home. My mom knew it was a sports period today as we had to wear our house color shirt. So Himachal house was red, Vindhya was green, Yamuna was yellow and my house Ganga was blue.

Toh mere beta ne kitne goal kiye?
Maine goal nahin kiya Ma. Par I assisted. I did everything.
Haan. Koi baat nahin beta. Thoda aur mehnat karo. Goal bhi karna aa jayega.

Now my mom to soccer is like Ramayan's Sita to F TV. Still I was furious. I had decided. I won't give the final pass to Abhimanyu. I would score the goal. I would be the hero. Next one week, I just had dreams of my winning move after the goal. I finalized the arms open move. As soon as the ball would kiss the net, I would widen my arms and start running randomly on the field pretending to be a free bird(The move which was later copied by Shoaib Akhtar).

The match started. It was a lack lustrous first half where the football match had turned to rugby and people were busy hitting the opposition players than the ball. Some sanity prevailed in the second half when both team realized that they needed to score a goal to win. Amit tackled the opposition player. He gave the pass to Abhimanyu. Abhimanyu dribbled the ball and tried to spot me. Seeing me to his right, he gently kicked the ball to right towards me. Bhaag! Bhaag! We need to score the goal. I took the ball. Dribbled. Me and Abhimany stated running towards the goal. I kept running, artistically saving the ball and myself from mindless tackles (there used to be no umpires) of opposition. Finally I got the ball between the legs of last defender and it was again two on one situation. I had been in these situation a lot of time. But now I was in quite a new situation. We both were running mindlessly towards the goal, when I heard the same words- "Pass! Pass! You can't do it". I shouted back- "I can! Don't come in my way!" The goalkeeper approached towards me. I was ready to take the kick. The goal was mine. With my full effort, I kicked the ball. I saw the ball beating the goalkeeper. I saw the ball beating the goalpost. The ball flew above the goal outside the ground.

Abhimany picked me up by my collar.
Bola tha nahin kar payega. Dekha teri wajah se haar jayenge. Miss kar diya na.
One of my teammates joined him- Khelna to aata nahin. Gola karega. Hero banega. Ja ball utha ke la.

I slowly walked towards the road. The ball was lying on one of the footpaths. One drop approached my cheeks. But the origin of this water drop was my eyes this time. I let my team down. Maybe I can't do it. I threw the ball to the ground. Abhimanyu came down to me and said- Tu bahar se pehle dekh aur seekh football kaise khelte hain. Fir khelne aana. I was substituted. Needless to say Ganga house lost the match. I was saved by my friends from being beaten by Abhimanyu.

I reached home disappointed and lost in my thoughts.It was just the goal. It was just above the goal post. Nobody noticed that I shot the ball so hard that it went above the goal post(This was a big deal in class-5). I just had it. I was the reason for which Ganga house used to win everytime.

Beta! Aaj kitne goal kiye?
Ma maine goal maara. Maine bahut jor se shot maari. Poori takat laga ke.
I demonstrated her a kick. Then I showed her the free bird celebration move. I felt I deserved to take the credit, to do the move at least once.
Maine aise fir dance bhi kiya.
(Laughing) Mera beta to bada acha football khelne laga hai.

I still don't know what made me to lie. But I couldn't see in the eye of mom when she said the last sentence. I cursed myself. I felt I had done a very wrong thing by lying to mom, though somehow I didn't feel bad. I was living a dream.

That was the last time I played football. Even now when I see kids playing football in the field, I can see a small boy in blue shirt, running hard, running fiercely towards the opposition's goal and I can still hear those words -"Pass! Pass! You can't do it".