Double Trouble // Neymar Jr //

..Thirty-Four..

"The heavens declare the glory of God;

And the firmament shows His handiwork."

-Psalm 19:1

God bless and be with you all! Thank You Lord for all the new years You have brought us all to. Thank You for everything. Jesus loves you! Always put God first! :)

I lined up the footballs in a straight line. I mapped out the distance from the goal to the balls themselves. There were 10 footballs in front of me. Just what I needed; target practice and a very quiet Camp Nou. While staring at the white goal, I decided that I would try to practice with my weaker foot. I listened to some music to pump myself up. Although I was two footed. I took a stutter step start towards the first, kicking it with the inside of my foot.

Goal! Into the top corner, just bouncing off of the post and riccocheting into the net.

I needed to work on my target, because I was not skilled with ever letting the ball roll into passed the line. Biting my lips and staring at the second ball, I took a running start towards this one, kicking it with the toe of the boots, and I missed by centimeters, obviously realizing my long known weakness was still there.

The third ball I struck with more force, feeling myself lift off of the ground, watching it hit the crossbar. I grimaced, feeling extremely dissapointed with what had happened tonight, but now I was fustrated and playing the game I loved.

Fourth ball: I tried with my left foot, turning and looking back while back heeling the ball just as it became slightly airborne; hitting the top right corner and I smiled once I heard the swish of the net being echoed through the stadium.

For a minute I stopped, staring up at the sky with a smile. Whether or not Andrew would be fit to play for tomorrow's match would depend on how well he would do with his medical. Then if he was in top form I could play instead of him because I knew he wasn't actually well enough, mentally, to get back on the field so soon.

Then I heard a creak of a seat being sat on. My head shot up with a crick heard, the sound of my neck. I put my hands on my hips, attempting to calm my nerves. "Okay." I slapped my hands over my cheeks. "Fifth ball." I did another stutter step towards the fifth ball, striking it with the outside of my weaker foot to test whether or not it would injury me.

I wasn't thinking clearly.

My ankle instantly rewarded me with a sharp pain, and I fell on the ground, scraping my arm in the process. Then I just laid there with my limbs sprawled out like a starfish. As I stared up at the stars with the plainest train of thought, I concieved an idea in all my lack of imagination. My boots were off at my own request, first taking one off with my other foot.

Since when did I become so in the know?

Since when did organized matches take over my life? Make me want the newest sports gear and wearing the most expensive boots I could find? Back when I was a child, I played with what I had. Not what I thought would make me a better player. I used to just play just because I enjoyed the feel of street football.

Brasilian style.

I sat up, glancing at the sixth ball with a squint. Even though my ankle had been hurting me, I was sure that I only irritated a tendon. As I took steps towards it. I was interrupted by a voice.

"Long time running, Andrew." I heard a grizzly voice start, and my eyes shot open.

The feeling of fear had raced into my viens. Straight into my mind came thoughts of who that voice belonged to. Then I realized that nobody else I knew wore a black peacoat often.