The Drug of Winning
Ecstasy momentarily consumes us as we watch the cocaine-white ball ripple the back of the net.
The sting of the ball is still fresh on the face of your foot such was the ferocity of your connection.
The volume of the crowd rises rapidly and unanimously.
Veins bulge from the necks of your team mates as they are wide-eyes with a demented stare and fists clench aggressively with biceps flexed as though they were screaming a battle cry.
Such is the height of their euphoria they cannot personify their delirious state in a way that will do it justice so it instead looks like they are more enraged than happy.
Hope sweeps across the pitch in a single moment such is the importance of the goal.
Contrastingly a demoralising sense of gloom spreads infectiously throughout the opposing team.
They look hopelessly ast the sky feeling deflated and cheated.
They suddenly become aware of the aches and pains they have sustained throughout the match.
Its as though they are sinking just when their up-hill battle has become steeper.
Two extreme emotions all tied up in a single moment.
Everything we love and hate about the game in a single moment.
Months of relentless running and training to achieve and avoid these moments.
Every player knows about these moments or they wouldn’t be playing.
But a moment is exactly that… a moment.
So you ground yourself or pick yourself up and start fighting for another.
It’s our burden and our love.
It’s our drug.
By Lee Costello