I remember the sun. The big orange dot in the sky was beating down on me and my brother
while we headed to the beach soccer area. It was 3:00, which according to the board in the middle of the resort, meant that there was a beach soccer game at the designated area. If anyone would show up. As we approached the sandy field, we noticed that we were really the only players there, except for the activity organizer.
“Are there any other players” I ask the organizer.
“Yes” he responded “They’re right over there”
I looked over to the bar, where the organizer was pointing. At first I only saw a bunch of adults. I looked closer, and what I saw stunned me. Among the adults were two huge kids. Like really big. I’m not even exaggerating. The game organiser smiled at me. Not really a happy smile, but one of those “I feel bad for you!” smiles. I even felt bad for myself. I’d only seen these kids for a few seconds, and I was already thinking about how badly we’d lose. Well, no turning back now. Plus, how badly can they beat us really? It can’t be THAT bad, can it?
It was THAT bad.
Goal. After Goal. After Goal. After a French fry break. After Goal. After Goal.
Even though there was no real use in playing after five minutes in, we continued to play.All we really wanted to do was to score. I, being the greedy person that I was, played attacker. You can tell how well I did in that position by the goal statistic: ZERO GOALS. This apparently annoyed my brother, who then screamed at me to play defense. Now, This wouldn’t be as embarrassing as it was if there wasn’t a crowd forming around our little beat down. Public humiliation at it’s finest. My face turned red and I played defense, as I was told. The rest of the game passed by, same as the beginning. Pure defeat. No, there was no miracle comeback. We did, however score one goal. One goal. We can thank my brother for that, and for that, I’m proud.