Book 1: Page 1, Para 2

I don’t remember the date, but I know it was the first sunny morning that marked the onset of autumn. The two teams were evenly matched on the field and this was reflected in the score sheet. We won a penalty! I knew whosoever makes the penalty would become the school hero. How could I control the urge of self importance? Anurag, the captain announced, “Let Kalsh take the kick.” This was my chance. I was going to make history. This one goal and we would have a chance of becoming the champions after a gap of seven years. I took my place next to the ball. For the remaining thirty five seconds it was only going to be him and me. No teammates; no supporters; no cheerleaders. We had practiced this routine over a thousand times. I had never missed a penalty shot in my whole career. But then again it had never been so important to make one. Alessandro Del Peiro, my favorite player was in my mind. He would come running towards the ball and stop just a fraction of a second  before shooting. He never missed. I decided to go with the same trick. He had fooled Italian keepers a zillion times. I had to fool an Indian. I am not saying that my task would be easier, but yes all the more achievable.

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