Page 62 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

The tournament kicked off after three days. We won our first match but lost the second match to
Motithang High School by 2 to 0 goals. We still stood a chance. The next crucial match against Khaling
High School seemed tough. They had Maradona, a seeded player. After five minutes, I kicked the ball
across the center. Our striker, Ugyen Penjor, penetrated their defenders and tripped the ball above their
goalie. The ball bounced into the net.
A few minutes later, Maradona delivered a sizzling shot. The ball scudded straight into my post, but I
gripped and brought it down to my chest. He knelt in resentment.
Soon, our defender, Dawa Tshering, tackled down Maradona. Maradona wriggled with an ankle injury.
With their best player on the bench, we dominated the game. At the end of the first half, Baggio scored
another goal. The second half was a tough battle with no score.
We would play the semi-final against Yangchenphug High School. From the other pool, Dagana High
School would play against Motithang High School.
Motithang High School and Yangchenphug High School were arch-rivals in soccer. Their matches
always ended in brawls, but this time, they sauntered into the town together.
Dagana High School won from the other pool. Our match ran into extra time and penalty shots. On
tossing a coin, Yangchenphug High School got the first shot. The umpire blew the whistle, and the ball
slipped off my fingers into the net. Our first shooter scored. The score was three each. Their fourth
penalty shooter faltered to the penalty area. He bit his lips and cast an indecisive glance at me. He kicked
the ball to my right side. I dived and punched it. The ball slapped my palm and deflected off the crossbar.
I found myself enveloped within my mates’ massive bear hugs. “Yippee!” The score stood at 4:3. Their
last shooter kicked. The ball entered the net from the far corner of the post. Score: 4:4. Our last shooter
was Baggio. When the umpire whistled, I turned away and crossed my fingers.
“Goal!” shouted my mates and tossed Baggio in the air.
The YHS team captain shook hands with us. “I am from Mongar. I am glad you won. Congratulations.”
We bowed and shook his hands. “Thanks, captain.”
A tall man in blue jeans appeared from behind and said, “Congrats, goalie. I am Kinga, a big fan of
yours.”
My jaw dropped. “Thank you, sir.”
“You play well.”
“Really? Thank you.”
“Boys, come, let’s take a photo,” said Coach.
Kinga squeezed between Baggio and me. He slipped his arms around my shoulders. As the flash
streaked across our eyes, I smiled at my best pose.
“Okay, done,” said Coach.
“Let’s go to my place for dinner,” said Kinga.
I glanced at Coach. “Thanks, but—”
“Please,” he said. “I insist.”
Coach studied Kinga from head to toe but said nothing.
“Please, Coach,” said Kinga. “Allow him.”
Coach said, “You want to join him, Dorji?”
I shook my head.
He turned to Kinga and said, “Sorry, he doesn’t want to go.”
“Please, Coach,” said Kinga.
“Make sure you come back before 8:00 pm, okay?” said Coach.
“But Coach—”
Kinga said, “Come on, goalie,”
Teammates watched as he walked me across the road.
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