This Short story was written in a Christmas time examination in English. I was given the choice to write a short story along with several other forms of creative writeing. I chose the short story becuase I love useing my imagination. I was given a set of photos to use as inspiration, I chose two men playing the Traditional Irish Game of Hurling. The story is of a captain and his nerves before a match in a dressing room. It took me 30 min to write.
"Oh God it's Nearly time" that voice in my head shiverd as it said this. I could hear the roar of the crowd even inside the breeze block walled dressing room. My team had struggled through rain, mud and blood to get here. We had sacraficed all our free time. I think it has paid off." Oh god it's Nearly time" That voice again. It is a small voice not my own a al. I can't understand that, how come it is not my voice?
There is a coldfeeling in the pit of my stomach. i haven't felt that since our first match. My chest feels worse. The Thump of my heart feels painful , it is so strong. If I look down I can see my Jersey Move. "Oh god it's Nearly time"
That voice again, it sounds more nerveus now. I look at my team mates. They fidget like children. One has his leg bouncing up and down so hard and so fast it matches my heart. Another rubs behinds his ear every three seconds. Now a third had a diferent aproach. He had tied and untied his boot laces 19....no 20 times now "Oh god it's Nearly time"
Why won't that voice stop?! I can't concentrate. Is taht really me? Is that the part of me I have chocked into silence every other match? Why does it have to be untouchable this day of all days?"Oh got it's Nearly time"
The coach is here now, he is a large man with a deep red complexionfrom his own weight. I am so close to him I can smell his anti persperent and the underlying tang that is his body odour. But what suprises me is that I can't hear him. There is nothing, just the hamering of my heart, the roar of the crowd, the clack of my team mates nerveous leg and" oh God it's nearly time" this time slightly more persistent.
The Coach is gestureing like a man caught on fire. He Mimes the action we know by heart, lift and strike the bread and butter element of this game. How could we possibly forget? The Team takes comfort in it any way. Maybe being reminded of the basics should help. More mimeing now, he has clenched fists and he shakes them ernestly to stress a point. Then he beckons me to talk. " Oh God it's nearly time"
My Heart is really pounding against my ribcage. I stand in the middle of the dressing room. I shake my legs so the electric adrenaline doesn't make mu legs quiver. They all look at me. The leg stops moveing, the hand has stopped scratchin and he has finally found a knot he likes in his boots. "Oh god it's Nearly time" I bite back my tongue o fight the compulsion to say it this time.
"I know this will be the toughest day of our lives" My voice is even and clear.......good." This is the finals, this is what we have fought fore with our bodys...."I tick off on my fingers"...our minds...." another finger curls to my palm"... and our souls..."I clench my hand to ilustrate how serious I am."we have done so much and come so far for this. every match we have played we have won. Every time we used all that we are for this". My fingers are clenched so hard they turn bone white . They are nodding there heads in agreement, some throw in a positive comment. My heart is still pounding, but there is no ache anymore. I feel alive now with the beleif of my team mates. "This is our day, this is our day that we show we will deserve this cup" I take a deep steadying breath" I trust in you all, I trust that you will give everything and more today"They stand up cheering calling out "Come On Lads!" Claping each other on the shoulder.
An official comes in and we stand at the tunnel. I see the heavenly bright pitch, the lines burn my vision but I soak it all up. I can hear the voice take a breath. I smile" It's time" the voice is strange, teh voice is mine. We run into the roar of the crowd and the bright pitch. Today is our victory day.
The Brief was to write a story about the relationship with another family member. Here is what I wrote.
I had always felt distant from my father. he was some how detached from me for what ever reason. Maybe because we didn't have much in common by way of intrests or that our intrests were of a type taht could not be shared.
The Rain has soaked my hair. Beards of water ran down the back of my neck.
Another Part of me sinply beleives taht the two of us never made a concious effort to find a more common ground.
The Sticky mud has ruined my leather shoes. I can feel it grasping at the soles trying to stop me walking, walking with my family.
There were only a few things I could say I had in common with him. We liked books especially Charles Dickens. He Would laugh at any other choice of fiction. If I told him I had read a good book he would always ask " Is it Dickens? when I replied "No" he would laugh and say I should read Dickens.
Some one is walking beside me, it's a cousin I haven't seen in an age. He pats me on the back and mumbels something and moves on.
Music was the closest we had as a conenction. Classical it was rachmaninov especially Piano Concerto No.3. We used to call it "Rach 3". It was everything we wanted in classical music. The Beatels were next. He Grew up listening to them and I liked there stuff too. Some times I would find him playing his old folk guitar and it was almost certainly the Beatels. U2 was the closest he could come to "Modern" music but that wasn't so bad.
I stand now at the entrance to death where if you enter it you will never escape. The grave seems to be infanitely dark like a gapeing mouth. The Preist has all ready started. I wonder what my dad would think. I can't hear the preist now, all I hear is the drum of teh rain on the coffin. It has the same beat as Rach 3, dad would like that I'm sure.
This took me 20 min to write.
Well I'm finnaly back from Japan. It was definately was an experience I can tell you that.
Japan is definately as diferent as people say it is. It is just totally different from any other culture in the world.
I could go on for a 1000 pages about how diferent Japan is and how similiar it is to other countries but I won't I'll just tell you my crappy return home.
1.wasn't allowed on flight from Tokyo to Paris because bags were to heavy
2.Had to stay in airport hotel till morning(the air line paid for the room but had the Mini-Bar emptied before we got there)
3.Wasn't able to get a flight to Dublin when we got to Paris until three days later(wasn't to bad since I stayed at a my friends house, teh friend who came with me to Japan)
4.Missed first flight to Dublin from Paris( got on a second one though)
5.They lossed our freakin BAGSI( I have gotten them back now)
well that's it my saga, I swear I am never traveling again not even on the bus. But stilll you should all try to visit that Amaesing Country. jsut make sure you get a good Airline and if you buy lots of stuff send it home by Air-Mail it's a helluva lot cheaper then paying over weight charges. I'll put up my photos from over there as soon as I can.
Conor
Friends
Tracked Blogs
