25/12/2025
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Watching my team mate take the last penalty kick from the bench was unbearable. My heart was thumping and pounding against my rib cage at least 120 beats per minute. I was afraid and excited at the same time because I couldnβt do anything about it but hope that he would score. He took 4 steps backwards from the penalty spot and started charging towards the ball with confidence in hopes to make perfect contact with the ball.
Second year was something else. I was doing second year for the second time because I had failed my first attempt. I was repeating pathology and physiology only, this gave me so much free time. I needed some activity and thatβs where my passion for soccer was reborn. I had to make one of two choices, either I indulged in self-pity and became depressed obsessing over why I failed or move on and be happy living the new adventure life had paved for me. I chose the latter.
Soccer became my identity. Students played soccer only on Wednesdays and Fridays but for me, it was an everyday activity. I had some talent and skills quite alright but what separated me from the rest was my full dedication and commitment towards the sport.
I love Soccer with every part of my mind, body and spirit and my dedication and hard work really helped me do great things. That dedication led me to being privileged with the task of keeping the soccer balls. Before second year I had never really played a full pitch match where people had to hold their positions across the whole pitch but with my dedication, I learned how to keep my position and I learned it fast.
The first time I was in second year, I played for the school team and in the first league match I played, I scored a fantastic goal and it really helped boost my confidence. It was in my first second year attempt that I broke my right arm while playing monk soccer on Wednesday. This would have stopped a normal person but it couldnβt stop me. With a broken arm, I played the tournament that came a week after I broke my arm. We reached the final but lost the penalty shoot outs.
Fast forward 2 terms later, we wrote our exams and I failed pathology and physiology. I went back to the school of medicine the second time with more dedication towards soccer this time.
In term one second-year round two, we went to play soccer in Kitwe (CBU main campus) and this time I broke my right foot. I didnβt stop here either. The moment I felt better, I went back to the pitch. After some matches again I got injured, my left foot was broken. My position is top man so I am the most targeted player in the team and I think that explains why I get injured a lot.
Anyway, our school hosted a sports day. A big event, something where all my talent, skill, hard-work and dedication I had put into soccer was supposed to show. I am known as Micheal STar, surprisingly, I am very famous and liked by a lot of people. This has come as a disadvantage for me. The sports day tournament was between 2nd years, 3rd years, 4th to 6th year campus students, 4th to 6th year Ndola clinical students and 4th to 6th year clinical students from Kitwe and Chingola.
I was initially invited to play for the 3rd years (They make the majority of the school team and they were the ones I was supposed to be with if I didnβt fail) but I turned them down and chose to play for the 2nd years hoping I could play against my 3rd year friends. I was selected in the 2nd year team but to my surprise the person they chose as the coach and some elderly man in the team were also envious of me. I really didnβt expect them to be so immature by the whole thing.
In the first game, the βcoachβ had me warming up before half-time. He put me in when they were only 2 minutes left. When the people so me going in, the crowd went wild shouting, "STar!". This only made the βcoachβ and that old man more upset. In the next game, the βcoachβ put me in, in the last minute and it just kept on getting worse until I didnβt even step on the pitch in the final match. I tried to talking to them but they just couldn't help but feed their egos that they benched star. Like Erik Ten Hag towards Ronaldo.
I was embarrassed, laughed at, criticized and all of the sudden the day that was supposed to show my dedication and skill turned sour. The day I had been preparing for and failed to sleep over turned into a nightmare I wish never happened.
And even though it was unfair on my part, I was still silently rooting for my team. We reached the final and my heart thumping as the final penalty taker from my team moved forward.
He made a perfect connection with the ball but I guess the pressure got to him and the ball went over the bar. We lost. We ended up with silver and missed out on gold. If the βcoachβ hadnβt acted immaturely, there is a high probability that we would have been the ones walking out with gold and he would have taken the best coach award but his jealousy and hatred only lead to the both of us losing and thatβs how my second-year sports day went. The 3rd years I turned down ended up winning the tournament.
Lessons:
1. You can never know the people who really hate until a time when they have some power comes.
2. Stick to the people who know you well because they like you despite knowing your flaws.
3. Some things are just out of your control, move on quickly and donβt let them drag you down.
