It all started on a hot, humid, sunny day, the entire soccer team waiting to be called up by the coaches to find out who made the cut and who was off the team. Tensions were very high, you could feel it flowing through the air as if it was the wind. Everyone was waiting for their turn to be called up, with uncertainty about their position in the team. About 200 players were trying out, yet only 22 spots on the team. I had spent the entire summer preparing for this day, I spent countless hours on the track field running and spent a greater amount of time on the field training. What felt like hours back then now felt like mere seconds. I couldve done more, I thought to myself. I would be devastated if I didnt make the team. Thoughts continued swirling through my brain. What if I could have done something differently? What If I trained harder? What if I wasted all that time practicing and didnt make the team? Trying my hardest to be patient, I sat waiting on the greenish-yellow artificial-looking turf, watching player after player coming back after being called. Some had huge grins on their face, unable to contain their excitement from making the team, while others came back with their heads down on the verge of tears. Seeing this was eating at me at a slow pace, I couldnt help but think I was going to be one of the players who would get cut. I counted do
wn the cheerful care-free looking faces, knowing there were only 22 spots, and that number was slowly going down. I was gradually becoming more and more nervous. The suspense was killing me, we had been waiting for hours in the hot sun. I could feel everything. My body was sore from playing all those hours, my stomach was growling because I hadnt eaten since the morning and my stomach felt as if It would throw up any second from the fear and anxiety. I continued to sweat nervously, I could feel the sweat slowly trickling down my skin as more and more spots continued to fill up. More and more spots were filling up, and I had yet to be called. I looked at my friend, with whom I most compared myself in terms of skill, and asked him the burning question. I could barely speak. Do you think we will make it?. I dont know, but there are only 5 spots left and there are 33 of us left, he replied. But do you think we are good enough?, I asked Victor. He could hear the strain in my voice, he knew that I wanted a spot just as bad as he did. And he said, It doesnt matter, the important thing is we tried our hardest. I could tell that he did not mean that and was just trying to comfort me. Everything around me slowly became a blur, I was becoming dizzy and slowly zoning out, the uncertainty was eating at me internally. Tarek. Tarek. Tarek, the coaches are calling you.