This was it. The final chance. The eyes of millions were resting upon him, a single person with the hopes of a whole country resting on his shoulders. The final minute of the game, they would either win or lose. There would be no second prize in the hearts of others. He took a deep breath. Praying to God, he lined the ball up to the penalty spot. The sounds of the chanting fans and the jeering opponents became oblivious to him. Then, the referee’s whistle pierced his muted mind like a knife. His heart raced with adrenaline and fear as he started his run towards the ball. He reached his destination after what seemed like eternity, and lifted his leg, concentrated on pinpointing all his power in the middle of the football. He let fly with a smashing blow, and the ball went soaring through the air towards the top corner. The entire stadium was silent as every person followed the motion of the ball in the air. The goalkeeper threw himself towards the ball, arms outstretched, praying for the winning save.

-Two weeks earlier

Jack Anderton trudged along the muddy street home, his only protection against the icy rain being his beaten old coat. His breath came out in puffs of steam, hidden by the downpour from the skies. With his hands in his pockets and his earphones nestled in his ear, he made his way to his warm, cosy home. After a long day of football practise his muscles screamed at him to rest. The bleak surroundings everywhere around him were the very picture of misery. A small muddy side path, with dog waste littered around and a plain grey wall. “Just a bit further.” Jack muttered behind his teeth. “Just a bit further..”

Within 10 minutes, Jack reached his street. Just a couple of houses later, his familiar house with the same blue door, white walls and red mailbox outside loomed into sight. He opened the gate and dragged his weary body to the front door. Swinging it open, he peered inside. “Mum?” he called out, “I’m home!” Jack slammed the door shut and chucked his bag next to the wall. Taking his shoes off and kicking them into the corner, Jack slouched through the house.

“Jack? Is that you?” came a voice from the kitchen.

“Yeah mum its me. Just got back from practise.” Jack yelled back.