- For Teachers
Kindly grade this essay. Your opinion is most appreciated. I will be sitting for my GCE O level soon.
My shot grazed past the right hand post. The clock was ticking. We needed just a goal to win the prestigious UEFA Champions League trophy. My heart pounded with a ferocity I had never felt before. My breathing grew quick and hurried. Full-blown adrenaline was coursing through my veins. It was now or never.
I woke up with a start. My eyes were as wide as circles; the dream was still etched vividly in my mind. Even my breathing was flustered. My fingertips massaged the tense, serious expression on my countenance, calming me down. I have always had the single dream of becoming a world-renowned footballer, and I had told myself that I would risk all I had to do what I loved – playing the beautiful game, football, professionally.
I had been training faithfully every Saturday at the park near my home, with a team in the Sunday League’s second division and we were challenging for major honours this season. The regular cup tournament was due to begin very soon and there were likely rumours that a national scout would be present in every game of the tournament. I wanted to give myself a chance to succeed. I needed to impress.
Hours turned into days. Days turned into weeks. I found myself suiting up for the match. With a final pull of my socks, I sprinted onto the field, kissing the luscious green turf as I always did. It was my ritual. It turned out to be working that day as I was more than impressive, setting up my teammates for the first two goals, and added one to my tally as well. Needless to say, I went back a happy man that day.
The next day I was awoken by the sweet incessant ring of the phone. I had been selected to try out for the national under-18 squad and was due to train with them the following week! There was a strange aftertaste in my tongue after that. It felt like the taste of sweet success.
The trial match was fiercely contested by the selected players who had the same mindset I had. We had sought out to achieve that dream we all shared. Before we knew it, dangerous, over-enthusiastic tackles had flown in one after the other. The atmosphere was tense. It was driving us me insane, but I only knew the true meaning of the word when I received a brutal tackle. I tossed and turned like a man possessed on the muddy brown surface, the pain was insanely impossible to bear. My knee had been dealt the full brunt of the blow. Dread filled me. Dread had never filled me before.
The doctor told me I needed an operation on my knee and that I would most likely never be able to kick a ball the same way ever again. My anterior cruciate ligament had ruptured, and the surgery would cost a few hundred thousand dollars. I did not have that much money, and my parents in heaven certainly did not leave that amount behind for me here on earth. A lone tear made its way down my cheeks. The rain that ensured outside the hospital walls convinced me that my parents were crying for me as well.
Yet, I would not give in. The nights in the hospital gave me a new dream. A dream that I would go on to fulfill.
I glanced at my watch. There were only a few minutes left. We needed just a goal to win the prestigious UEFA Champions League trophy. My heart pounded with a ferocity I had never felt before. My breathing grew quick and hurried. I was the manager of Chelsea Football Club, one of the most glorious football clubs in the world. I had fulfilled my dream.