The God's Shoes | Flash Fiction

in #fictionlast year (edited)

soccer768482_1280.jpg

Suddenly the crowd went in pure silence, every eye on the stadium focused on Barry. He stood there in front of the 4 center backs lining up, ready to take the free kick. 20 meters from the net. Should be ideal for a wonderful free kick goal.

The silence break, now the supporter started to sing the chant, "Barry, Barry, kick that ball and give us a goal!". First by a guy on the north side, then five people joined. Then twenty people, then hundreds of them started singing the same chant.

"Barry, Barry, kick that ball and give us a goal!"

"One goal, and we will win this!" His captain shouted. The opponent center backs hear it and laughed at him. Their goalie was that Nakamoto-kun. The wunderkind from Japan, Mr. Clean-sheet, or whatever people called him to define his 30 games without conceding any goals. Oh yes, please laugh. Forgive them, because they don't know that today is not an ordinary day.

Don't you guys notice my shoes? It may looks old and soaked, but if only you knew the history.

Barry takes a deep breath, he took several steps back. His eyes spotted at the corner at the net. He observed Nakamoto-kun, his tall body with long legs and hands. Barry starts to run towards the ball...


His shoes were really special. He got it a week before from an old gypsy that showed up once in a month. His name was Lucci. Barry admires Lucci for he always came to town with many wonderful and amazing stories and stuff.

One day, he brought an ancient tablet made of gold and silver. There was an unknown script written on it. He said the script was a forbidden spell to woke up the mummies inside the pyramids. Of course, it was a lie. But Barry just loves to hear these stories.

And that day, old Lucci showed him this pair of shoes.

"Do you remember that world cup final?" Asked Lucci, he sat on the back of his cart, an old cart full of weird stuff he collected from wandering around the globe.

"Which world cup?" Barry asked.

"You know, that one where Diego scored a goal with his hand!"

"Ah, yes, the Hand of God," said Barry. "What's about it?"

"Well... the goal was made by his hand. But... this is the shoes." Lucci lifted the shoes and gave them to Barry.

"No way!"

"I'm not lying, kiddo. I got this from the deep deep underground seller in Amazon."

"You, Lucci, you buy stuff from Amazon?" Barry laughed.

Lucci lifted his left eyebrow.

"No, you fool. The real Amazon jungle, that is."

"Should I buy it or what?"

"No, kiddo, consider this as a gift from me. I'm too old to wandering the world. Now my old bones just want me to sleep on a nice and warm bed in Caribia" Lucci smiled, it supposed to be a friendly smile, but his messed up hair and beard make him looks like a crazy witch offering a poison apple.

Barry did take the shoes. Even wore it. In fact, there were some weird coincidences related to his shoes. One morning during training sessions, he lost his regular shoes. A wild dog took it while Barry was resting on the side of the bench. He runs to catch it, but the dog was too fast.

The next day, he reluctantly went with Lucci's shoes. Surprisingly, it suited him well. He scored ten goals that day. Maybe this is really the shoes of God, Diego himself.


Barry kicked the ball. As if in a slow-motion film, he could see how the ball flying. It bends on the air passing through the head of all the center backs. It went on curves in the right direction, at the corner of Nakamoto-kun's net. Barry was ready to shout as loud as he could. He could feel it. The ball sure will go in. There's no way Nakamoto could block it in such of tight angle.

But there were no shouts.

Barry could hear it clearly. The sounds of the ball hit the iron bar. It bounced back to his direction. The center backs were too slow, Barry was already running to head the ball. And so did Nakamoto-kun.

Both of them were jumping, Nakamoto-kun almost got the ball. If only Barry was higher.

Dear God's shoes, please lend me your strength!

Wait, what was that?! Barry lifted his right hand. He hit the ball. The ball fell on the ground, slowly rolling to the net.

The referee blows his whistle.

Barry and Nakamoto-kun were lying on the grass. The referee comes to Barry.

"Is it a goal?" Barry asked.

The referee shooked his head and showed Barry a yellow card and soon after, a red card.

It was clearly a handball. Everyone could see it.

From his position, Barry could hear his team supporters started singing and shouting his name.

"Barry go home. Barry, you're no Diego!"


This song will be always sung at that stadium, every time they have a game. Even when Barry was already transferred to another club.

What a dumb, stubborn people.


THE END


P.S.
I originally wrote this in the Indonesian language. I wrote it soon after that wonderful Messi goal against Liverpool. I'm a Liverpool fan, but that goal was brilliant!
Sorry for my bad English.
YNWA.

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

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