The White Post

Karyna Lutsky '20

Stepping across the radiant red sideline onto the vibrant green grass soccer field is like walking through a door into a brand new world. My feet sink in between the thin grass strands and into the chocolate brown mud that tries pulls my foot back down each time I stride as if I were connected to that one spot. As I sprint up and down the sideline, I can feel the little “fly-aways” whipping through my eyes and across my face. The two clamoring teams lined up on both sides of the halfway mark, cheering on not only their friends, but also their teammates, erupts a fire my stomach to keep pushing in order to achieve my goals. The screeching whistles from referees in the bumble-bee shirts, the shouting parents who think they know more about the game than they really do, and the dancing birds who glide across the sky have me always questioning “What happened?” because where that high pitched shriek is coming from is a mystery. Bright bursts of color pop up in the air and catch the corners of my eyes, from the neon green tennis ball that a dog is chasing to the football that soars through the tiffany-blue sky. There should be no need for field lights since the ground is constantly gleaming from everyone’s rainbow-colored cleats that pave the way. I hit the rock-solid ball with a thud, and the unbearably heavy weight that rests on the tops of my shoulders just felt heavier as I hear the hard rock I kicked ding the outside of the snow-white post. I feel like I’m drowning under pressure and I can taste the rush of adrenaline that surrounds me to get it to ding on the inside of the post next time. I can smell the burned-out candle of the opponent that cannot be ignited since I have my mind set on getting around that girl. If that candle of hers lights again, I will be letting down not only my teammates, but also myself. In the back of my head, all I hear are my father’s words: “Failure is never an option, nor is it okay.” This is something he says to me about school, but I know it applies to essentially all aspects of my life. After hearing this statement over and over again, the taste of competition that lies on the tip of my tongue gets warmer and warmer. I can smell the time ticking away as it races up my nose and into my head. I knew something big has to be done. The anxiety of the two teams fills the air like a balloon filling with helium. I can taste the bitterness in my gums. As parents cheer louder, it sounds like booming thunder in the eye of a storm bursting in my ears, propelling me to run faster with the winds. When the ball lands at my feet, my father’s words echo through my head, the boom smashes my ears, the burning smell of the waxy candle comes back and the popping colors I saw through the corners of my eyes disappear because they’ve turned to focus on that ding of the inside of that white post. I smell a great drive ahead of me that will lead me right through all the candles lined up ahead of me. I have the taste on my tongue that I am going to blow them all out once and for all. As I weave in, out, and around I feel the pressure rising and the weights on my shoulders stacking up again, but this time I know I need to overtake the obstacles that face me. I kick that ball like I am kicking down my worst enemy and I see the gleaming ball laser into my eyes before my ears can even hear the ball glide down the back of the net. I can feel the weights drop off my shoulders and the sense of satisfaction rain over my whole body. Determination to accomplish a goal happens all in the head. Feeling the drive is all that’s necessary in order to succeed. It is a mindset I always need to know how to set from the first whistle, all the way to the last.