Yesterday was a very sad one for me and my classmates who are equally my team mates in school. I practically related with how footballers feel when they lose matches especially very important matches. What made our loss painful was that we had a bragging right to protect. We had an honour to uphold. We had a glory we did not want to be taken away from us.
In my school, we have remained unbeaten from first year to our penultimate year. Year in, year out, we win every tournament we participate in. In fact, we were invincible. We approach every competition especially inter-faculty competition demolishing every other side we met and we have won the trophy for 4 consecutive times. We hoped to retain it till we leave the school.
We were not pained because we only lost the match, we were pained because it was our last tournament in the school and we wanted to etche our name in stone as the team that claimed the tournament from when they started school till graduation. That was our plan. But on the contrary, man proposes, God disposes. To add more insult to injury, we lost to a team that was widely considered as underdog. A team we should beat any day, any time without hesitation. It was very painful.
The game ended 1-0 in the favour of our opponents. It was a clear case of hard luck on our part. We had thirteen to a dozen opportunities to score but we kept missing the chances. It was like 'god of soccer' was against us. We possessed the ball, pressurized our opponents. It came to a point the ball was constantly in their own half of the pitch. The problem was just how to put the ball behind the net; something that does not usually pose any problem to us.
Almost every other side participating in the games were happy. People were jubilating that 'the mighty has fallen'. We were jeered and booed. You now got the feeling right?
And at the end, we lost in the tournament. Our unbeaten streak just ended.