The Sweetest Shot

By Gomathi Sridevi Radhakrishnan

Children playing football

"Goal, tackle, dribble, pass, header, shot, corner kick, free kick, penalty, offside, foul, yellow card, red card, striker, defender, midfielder, goalkeeper…”

“DAD!” Kyle’s voice cut through the air, halting her father’s enthusiastic explanation. Gerald’s hands hung in the air, mid-gesture, his excitement still buzzing around him like static.

Her head was already spinning with several new terms, and she rubbed her temples, imagining cartoon birds circling her head. Gerald’s eyes softened as he took in his daughter’s overwhelmed expression.

He rushed to her side and knelt, gently cupping her round cheeks.

“B-Baby, are you alright?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. Kyle shook her head, her big eyes wide with confusion and a hint of panic. She gulped hard, trying to make sense of everything her father had just said.

Her voice trembled as she spoke.

“D-Dad, these terms are difficult.”

Gerald nodded, his shoulders slumping.

“I know, baby.”

“It feels like math,” Kyle continued, her face scrunching up. “You know how much I hate math. All those numbers make me sick.”

Gerald chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “A-All these words are making my head hurt, Dad. And after watching videos of the game, I-I feel my legs shaking.”

He gently brushed her hair again. “Don’t be afraid. I-I will be there for you.”

Kyle snorted, blowing air up to make her bangs dance. “Yeah, watching from the seats. While I’m the one getting kicked in the field.”

Gerald couldn’t help but smile at her blunt honesty. She reminded him so much of her mother- straightforward and unafraid to speak her mind.

“I won’t let anyone hurt my little girl,” he promised.

Kyle rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “Well, it was your fault that we’re in this situation.”

Gerald had no defence. His pride had gotten the better of him. When his friends started bragging about their sons’ football skills, he couldn’t resist. He boasted that Kyle was even better, and before he knew it, a challenge was set. The kids would play a match on Sunday, and the winner’s dad would get bragging rights for the next year.

Now, Gerald had two problems: one his daughter knew absolutely nothing about football, and two, his daughter knew absolutely nothing about football.

For the past week, Gerald and Kyle had used all their free time to practice football in the backyard. Gerald’s wife had watched with a mix of amusement and concern as her daughter tumbled and tripped over the ball.

She had patched up Kyle’s scraped knees more than once, shaking her head at the lengths they were going to for a simple game.

Now, it was D-day. The game was just an hour away. They had squeezed in a last-minute practice session, but Kyle was flushed and exhausted. Gerald could see the fatigue in her eyes. He cupped her cheeks again turning her face toward his.

“Baby, if you’re not ready, let’s not go. We can stay at home and watch the Cars movie, which you love.”

Kyle’s bottom lip wobbled. The idea of curling up on the couch with her favorite movie was tempting. But she couldn’t let her father down, not after he had boasted about her in front of his friends.

She took a deep breath, licked her lips, and shook her head. Determination flashed in her eyes as she met her father’s gaze. “We will go, Daddy.”

“Should I start the car for the game or the television for the movie?” A voice called from inside the house. It was Gerald’s wife, her tone teasing but warm.

Kyle and Gerald grinned at each other and fist-bumped before running to the car. As his wife drove, Gerald kept glancing in the rearview mirror at Kyle, who was watching a football match on her iPad. Her legs mimicked the players’ movements as she mumbled, “Tackle, power kick.”

Soon, they arrived at the field. The other parents and kids were already there, chatting and warming up. Kyle was the only girl among the eleven boys. The kids were divided into two teams, and a parent volunteered as the referee.

The game began, and Gerald’s heart pounded as he watched his daughter run onto the field. Gerald’s wife gasped when Kyle was pushed and tumbled to the ground. The referee blew the whistle. It was a foul, and a penalty kick was awarded.

The referee pointed to Kyle. It was her turn to take the penalty.

Kyle’s eyes darted to her father in the crowd. He was holding his hands together, trying to stay calm for her sake. She took a deep breath and stepped up to the ball. The goalie glared at her, his arms spread wide. The net behind him looked enormous.

Kyle placed the ball on the penalty spot and adjusted her stance. Her mind raced with all the videos she had watched, all the hours spent practicing with her dad. She remembered their laughter, their silly games, and the way her father had always encouraged her.

The referee gave the signal. The crowd held its breath. Kyle focused on the ball, took a deep breath, and kicked with all her might.

The ball flew forward.

The crowd erupted in cheers as the ball sped past the goalie.

The referee blew the whistle.