Lost in limbo

By: mitchell

The fresh smell of grass wafts up my nostrils like the smell of a home cooked meal. The feeling of tight leather stretched across my feet makes the hair on my body tingle. I can hear the soft thud of the ball as it’s stroked across the ground like a paint brush. I watch as players exonerate creativity in it’s most beautiful of forms. I’ve played the sport since I was three years old and it has become my outlet, the place I go when I can’t go anywhere else. The game seems so simple. Just a ball, a goal, and some guys in short shorts that are very close to being inappropriate. To me, the game is the only place where I feel truly like myself. When I’m out on the pitch, it’s like nothing else exists accept for what’s right in front of me. And for that short period of time, I am able to forget about everything else in this world.

In my 17 years of existence, I have tried a good number of things in this world. The only thing that truly makes me lose track of time and lose myself, is the game of soccer. The sport is incredible. It’s not the single most popular thing on the face of the earth for no reason. On that field, I am a star and I feel truly like myself. I can play for hours, shooting around with my friends at a local park until it’s so dark I can’t see my hand in front of my face and it seems as if we’ve been playing for mere minutes. This game is my life, and it’s the one thing in this world that truly makes me lose track of time. 

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