The weekend had flown by and my life would never be the same. But right now, there was no time for that. Not at this moment. It was Wednesday evening and it was all on the line.
All year we had been struggling to get our game down. The majority of our team was made up of freshman and sophomores. Then there was myself and three other juniors with only one senior, the goalie.
Tonight's game was tight and it was still scoreless with time running out. The last thing we wanted was to go into extra-time or have to decide the game with goal kicks. We just weren't good enough for all that.
Just when it seemed that we couldn't win, we caught a break.
One of our freshman defenders had managed to intercept the ball at the top of our own box. With quick thinking he kicked it out clean to our wing man who was now in a steady sprint, dribbling down the left center of the pitch.
As he raced past mid-field, I was running with him at an angle to his left some 15 yards or so ahead of him. But we still had a defender waiting up ahead in front of me. The defender had to wait because if he jumped one of us to quickly it would free up the other.
"C'mon, c'mon...pass it, pass it." I kept mumbling to myself knowing that I was running out of time. The defender made his choice, he chose not to move as we were coming up on him.
Just as I was about to reach him, our wingman lays out a perfect pass. It was a perfect kick and the ball was airborne which meant I could shift gears and run past the last defender without being called for offsides.
The poor guy never stood a chance, we caught him flat footed. I ran right past him as he tripped when he started turning to run with me. The ball was in the air and he was down. I knew I had a clean break.
But that pass, that pass was biblical because that fucking ball seemed to hang up in the air for a fucking eternity. It really didn't but damn it, it felt like it did.
The ball came down softly about 5yds ahead of me with almost no bounce. "Perfect," I thought to myself and I was on it. Now it was just me coming down the left side of the pitch angling towards the top left corner of the box.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see another defender making a direct move on me but he was too far away, even with his perfect angle he wouldn't reach me in time.
It was just me and the goalie now. What would the goalie do, would he stay back or would he rush me? "Think David, think" ...That thought kept repeating over and over in my head. No more time to think, I was a split second from having to decide my next move.
One of us had to make a move, then it happened. The goalie blinked; he made his move by running straight at me.
This meant that from the middle of the goal across to the left side of the goal, was cut off. But the far side, oh that far right side of the goal was open.
My eyes must've looked like two cherries in a bowl of milk. Right as I entered the top left side of the box I unloaded. A perfect kick hitting a strike, sending the ball on a perfect diagonal trajectory towards the far-right post.
The image of the ball on a line towards the post was the last I'd see of it. Suddenly I felt a body slamming into me. The next few seconds were a blur as I felt my body hit the ground. I rolled with somebody rolling over me, then off of me.
As my senses started coming back to me, I could hear the roar of the crowd! What'd I miss?
What I had missed seeing, was the ball zipping towards the far post. The goalie frozen. All the poor bastard could do was watch the ball go right past him because he hadn't covered enough ground, he was still too far back and slightly to the left. He was out of position.
Bang! The ball hit just inside of the post and ricocheted into the back of the net.
"Goooooooooooal!!" Isn't that what the guy screams on TV?
It was beautiful and that was all we needed. 10 minutes later the match was over and we had just won the right to play in our conference tournament after having started out the season playing like shit.
Amongst all the high five's and all the ass patting and hugs I happened to look up into the stands. There he was, all 6'6" of him in his military fatigues standing tall. He was to far away to see the expression on his face and then just like that he turned and started to leave.
The goal I had just kicked and the dramatic fashion in which the game had just played out was a thrill. I was extremely amped up. But the sight of Thomas watching me in the stands made all of that seem like church on a Thursday.
I had no clue that he would be there. I barely remember telling him over the weekend about my game. As soon as I laid eyes on him my heart and emotions started racing.
None of it lasted long because in an instant my train of thought was broken by the sensation of a small hand on my ass.
"God that was so hot watching you play!" I turned with a half startled look in my eye. It was Francis Holloway, a very pretty young lady that had been after me all year. I had taken her out a couple of times but couldn't bring myself to give her any more time. Francis wanted a serious relationship.
The thing is, if I know a girl wants to be more than fuck buddies, I don't even try to fool with her. I don't want to deal with the mess afterwards. You know how it goes, she wanted more, all you wanted was just a quick roll, now she's heartbroken and everyone is talking about how you're an asshole for breaking her heart.
Nah, you can keep all that.
I just smiled and gave her a quick response. "Hey gorgeous, thanks." My response was always short and sweet with Francis.
"So, get dressed and let's go celebrate, a bunch of us are getting together at Mikes so hurry up!" I smiled as I listened to her knowing that I had a split second to answer her without sounding weird.
"Yeah ok, I'll see you there!" Another quick answer with a big smile and a quick kiss to her cheek and I was out of there. I was off, running towards the locker-room to celebrate.
"Yeah babe, that's not happening." ...I mumbled to myself.
Once the noise had died down in the locker room, everyone started to shower and get dressed. I sat down in front of my locker like I do after every home game. I sat there with my head down, slightly hunched over with my elbows on my knees.
"Great game man! This makes staying for my senior year worth it."
I could tell you who's voice that belonged to in a pitch-dark room. Larry Ruiz, our senior goalie. I looked up and instantly an alarm was going off in my head. Like one of those damn amber alerts that suddenly comes over your cell phone without warning. Let me explain...
Larry and I have an after-game ritual. He'll come over to hand me a sports drink. I'll stand then as I take the drink with one hand, he gives me the big-bro handshake with the other hand. Our hands make a loud clapping sound as they smack together then we pull each other in for the big-bro hug. We do this after every game.
See the thing is...Larry is always naked when we do this. It's never been a big deal and it's the same routine after every game, win, lose or draw.
But this time as I look up to the sound of his voice and before I stood up, I was eye level with his crotch. That's when the alarm goes off in my head. For the first time in three years I notice that Larry isn't circumcised. His cock is big but not the biggest that I've seen. It is however very thick, almost as thick as the thickest that I've seen.
Normally none of this stuff registers in my head, but today alarms are going off in my head and I can't take my eyes off of it.
It's dark and the head of his cock, what little I can see of it, is purple. Because it's not circumcised it makes his cock look like a fat guy wearing a hoodie.
"You ok bro?" His question startles me as a cold chill instantly comes over me. I suddenly realized that he had caught me staring at his cock.
"Um...yeah, yeah...I'm g-great!" I was stuttering at this point as I struggled to respond while jumping up to take his hand for the big-bro handshake. Just in case you don't remember, I'm not very tall and while Larry isn't 6'6" he's a solid 6'.
The next part made my face light on fire with a solid blush. After giving me my big-bro handshake with big-bro hug, Larry looks me right in the eye and winks. My heart sunk. In three years of being his teammate he's never winked at me.
Then he just smiles and turns to head back to his locker. But he didn't just let go of my hand. He held it through his turn squeezing it as he released it.
"Holy fuck! Holy fuck!" Those two words were now on a loop inside my head as I did everything I could to remain calm. I took the drink, opened it up and started to take a sip when I noticed that my hand was trembling. As I sat back down, I started asking myself over and over, "Did he catch me looking at his cock?!"
One by one my teammates came by to congratulate me on the game and luckily, I regained my composure and found myself doing something that I had never done before. I was purposely making sure that I wasn't looking below anyone's waist. That's right, I had to keep myself from looking at their cocks.
Finally, I made it through; everyone was almost gone. My ritual after a game is that I take my time getting out of the locker room, always. Today wasn't going to be any different. Usually when I'm done there's an equipment manager still hanging around and he locks up after me. On the occasion when there's not, a custodian will close up.
Being a star athlete has its perks.
