The Feeling

The Feeling The final whistle blew. The game was tied(p), and the winner was still to be clear-cut. We all knew that the fate of the game was to be decided by penalties, a soccer player?s sound hated fear. The entire team was nervous as our motorbus carefully studied each player, trying to figure take whom he would choose for this infamous task. There was a hour of silence; the kind of silence you think only exists in movies. The ephemeral moment lasted an eternity. Would he choose me? Was I to don the pressure of representing the entire team in a drafting off that could easily be woolly?
Much to my regret, I was, indeed, single of these unfortunate people. I was to be the last unmatchable to shoot, the deciding figure, the person upon whom rested the hopes and dreams of our team for reaching the final. I was lost in the nebulous world around me. I was so concentrated on how I would shoot the orchis that I did not even realize it was almost my turn. The business relationship was tied at three. If I made the penalty ou...If you penury to shrink a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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