Wild Thing - Part II

Previously, on Wild Thing…

What? Did you expect me to do a recap of the previous post? That update was supposed to be a summary, so I’m obviously not going to write a summary of a summary. How stupid do you think I am? It would be everything except clutch… and anything which is not clutch doesn’t belong in this blog. Either way, cue opening credits. [“Wild Thing” by The Troggs is now playing in your head]

Time is running out as my team is trailing to the Chinese dudes by 3 goals to 5. What makes it worse is that each time we score and appear to get back into the game, we lose our composure (this is unforgivable, I know. Totally not clutch) and concede. My brave team mates must feel like Sisyphus rolling his boulder up the mountainside only for it to tumble down the slope every time he successfully reaches the top. At this point, it seems that hope is all but lost. Unless…

Enter the Wild Thing. [“Wild Thing” by The Troggs is still playing in your head]

I have seen enough; the time for inaction is over. It’s Showtime! It’s a corner kick in favour of our team – the perfect time for yours truly to make his eagerly anticipated return. I receive a low five (no, not a hand job, perverts) from my team mate as I cross the touchline and step onto the court to replace him. Despite having only seen glimpses of my genius during the first half, the Chinese dudes seem to recognise the threat I represent, undoubtedly tipped off by my cool, assured demeanour and legendary swagger.

Immediately, chubby Chinese dude is sent to mark me. Far from being put off by this close attention I’m being subjected to, I casually walk past him to position myself closer to the goal. To my marker’s credit, he stubbornly tries to keep up with me – something which, I can assure you, is no enviable task. However, I have no time for games. I mean business… I smile smugly, thinking to myself: “Is that all they got for me?” And then, it all happens within a second. With nimble and quick footwork, I leave my marker stranded and dash into space. At the exact same moment, the corner is driven in hard and low from the left, and I’m already positioned to make contact at the near post. Not the best of angle for a natural left footer like yours truly but somehow I manage to create something out of nothing. I forego the option of using my trusted left foot and instead stick in my less preferred – yet equally lethal – right foot.

Even in the heat of the action, I am lucid enough to realise that I don’t have time to trap the ball. I have to go for the volley. And I do, with great success. Top right corner, the opposite side from where the corner was taken… An unbelievable goal! Out of nowhere, we have pulled one back. My very first touch since coming on is a decisive one. So clutch!

And now it’s game on.

To be continued…