The cacophony of the whistle rocked my eardrum as the men in black and red started passing the ball.
Within no time, a short but well built young man took charge and he had the reigns of the game in his hand.
It was hardly 30 seconds since the game had begun when he shot a direct goal from the halfway line.
The crowd erupted with joy and exuberant exhilaration was on the air. Even the opposition was their feet, clapping for the amazing young man.
He ran around the field (a bit of exaggeration, well, the game was played in the basketball court) with his arms held high. After a small tilt of his head upward to thank the Almighty, he began eyeing for the ball.
The ball's prayer to stay away from his hard hitting leg seemed unanswered as the sturdy leg thrust copious amounts of pressure to direct the ball to the goalpost yet again.
The man in black was doing it great for the men in black.
The timer was showing less than 180 seconds and the score was already 2-nil.
The men in red were running helter skelter just to block the man from getting the ball dribbling.
Soon, the nets felt the power of his boot again. The ball flew in with a rage enough to tear apart the net and the score board now showed 3-nil.
He was wreaking havoc in the enemy lines. He would appear in front of the ball at dubious points of time.
Once the ball was in his clutches, the opposition members had to sweat it out really to get their hands (legs, yeah, of course) on the ball.
Running up to meet the swiftness of his legs was tiring for all the men, including his own team playing there.
He led them to a glorious win.
The scoreboard was showing 4-1 at the end of the game with 3 massive goals under his belt and a clean pass that led to another beauty.
He is highly regarded as an unparalleled player amongst his peers. Classy stylish gentleman, he is. With the qualities for a manager and the agility of a footballer, let us wish him a wonderful journey ahead.