Gooooooooooooooooooooooal!

I would like to take a moment to express appreciation for one of my greatest sources of satisfaction.

There are few things in life that make the pleasure centers in my brain light up more than watching a soccer ball leave my foot, sail through the air, and strike the net. (I said "few things," not "no things" for those of you that are thinking certain thoughts.) I love the excitement of pulling my leg back, seeing a few square feet of open net with my peripheral vision, and knowing that in a second I will either feel exhiliration or intense frustration. But more than that, I love the satisfaction of seeing the ball rocket between defenders and past the outstretched hand of a diving keeper. I love watching the waves in the net. I love hearing my teammates cheer. I love scoring goals.

There are other athletic accomplishments that compare to the satisfaction of scoring a goal. I love sprinting away from the pass rush, seeing a receiver downfield one step ahead of his defender, judging how far my momentum will carry the ball and how far I need to lead the receiver, and slinging a spiral into his chest. I love making a quick cross-over dribble to free myself from the defender, pulling up at the top of the key, and watching the ball hit the bottom of the net. I love sprinting down the sideline, hesitating just long enough to freeze a would-be tackler, and then hitting the afterburners and watching him fall on his back. I love seeing the glimmer in an opponent's eye as he pulls up for a jumper and then swatting his shot from the air. But as enjoyable as all these moments are, scoring a goal takes the cake.

There are, unfortunately, those among us that have never experienced the moments of which I speak. They may not feel as passionately about sports as I. To them I say, "Sorry."