When I was six, I played my first soccer game. It was a real game, complete with coaches, uniforms, and parents cheering from the sidelines.
Our two teams, Team One and Team Two, seemed pretty evenly matched, at least in the beginning. The first period ended without a single goal scored by either side. We were all still learning how to play the game properly, and our inexperience ran through this part. We stumbled over the ball, tripped over our own feet, and often completely missed our kicks. But what mattered most was that we were having fun, pure and simple.
The second quarter brought a significant change in the game. Our coach decided to pull out most of our starting players and put in the substitutes (替补), except for me—I was left guarding the goal. On the other side, Team Two's coach decided to keep their best players on the field, which made things even more challenging for us. It seemed that winning suddenly become essential, even for us six-year-olds.
Team Two started to rule the game, and I found myself surrounded by their players whenever they came near our goal. I was determined to do my best, but it was tough. I couldn't match the skills of three or four other really good players. Team Two began to score, one goal after another. I threw myself in front of the ball with all the energy I could gather, trying desperately to stop them but in vain.
The pressure was mounting, and I could feel my frustration building with every goal that slipped past me. I shouted, I ran, and I dove, but they kept scoring. I gave it everything I had, but it seemed useless.
My parents were there on the sidelines, and I could see them in the crowd. As the game progressed, I could see the change in my father's expression. He had been urging me to try harder, yelling advice and encouragement from the sidelines, but now he seemed different. I could see the pain in his eyes, the pain he felt seeing me struggle. It made me want to cry.
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Team Two scored their fourth goal, and it was half-time break.
In that moment, what my father said meant the world to me.
