Werehe watched the game carefully. It passed the ninety-minute mark. Both teams were playing extra time. Five minutes were added to the normal ninety minutes. Werehe accepted the bitter reality he lost his investment. Money his brother gave him was drained in the raging river. He witnessed the cash vanish as each second of the game elapsed. Then there was faint hope. Tottenham counter-attacked. Their lethal striker Harry Kane was passed the ball. He placed it on the right foot then on the left foot. The defender marking Harry Kane was off balance and slid on the pitch. Harry Kane sniffed blood. As an assassin in front of the goal, he saw an empty net despite the goalkeeper keeping guard. No ball passed him into the net or crossed the goal line so far. But it was about to change, wasn’t it? Harry Kane made a shot towards the goal.
The moment provided an opportunity for God to listen to Werehe’s prayer. Many waited for Harry Kane to step up. God placed their hopes on the striker’s foot to shoot and score. God should miraculously enable the ball to enter the net. Had Harry Kane ever been inhibited from scoring from such a position?
Werehe watched as the ball made its way up to the targeted destination. The net shook. Many in the hall stood up in celebration. Their prayers were answered. Instead of praising Jah, they cursed and praised their wits. They were bullish in front of West Bromwich Albion fans. Tottenham fans and all those hoping for a Tottenham win reminded their opposing fans they were the main bulls who had mounted them. The celebrations did last for five seconds. Harry Kane was calm. The scoreline displayed on the monitor was still nil-nil. Was there a problem?
Werehe and his fellows were made to return to reality. Harry Kane’s shot was inconsequential to change the score. They cursed and insulted the striker. He was a fool to have missed such a wonderful opportunity. English strikers were idiots. As they settled and devoured the bitter reality, West Bromwich Albion counter-attacked. A shot was made near the box and towards the goal. The shot was blocked and the ball went out of play. Corner!
A corner was given to West Bromwich Albion, which was created out of nothing. The gods conspired to kill ‘investors’ emotionally.
All that banked their money on a Tottenham win felt the pressure than the coach, the players, and true fans at White Hart Lanes. Teams like West Bromwich Albion that fought to save themselves from the relegation zone proved tough to win against. They proved like a person in a dungeon holding firmly the shirt of a man struggling to come out of the deep hole.
The game was over, although it remained five seconds for the center referee to blow his whistle. What worse could happen than what they had seen so far? They were emotionally wounded. The game was goalless. The worst of the worst happened.
The corner was taken. The ball landed at the penalty box. A scramble in the penalty box between opposing players ensued. The ball refused to exit the penalty box. A kick here and a kick there made the ball go round and round in the penalty box and geometry was formed by the ball passing hither and tither to players.
Then an insignificant West Bromwich player made a senseless contact with the ball in motion. A heavy touch made contact with the ball. The ball rolled and passed every Tottenham player that stood like statues and it crossed the goal line. It rested in the net. Silence roared. A cricket chirped and died. The disbelief was too much to stomach. How the ball found itself calmly resting at the back of the net was an unthinkable fact. The damage proved real beyond reasonable doubt.
A game that was on paper the easiest for Tottenham to win proved the most difficult that ended in humiliation. Cursed be Harry Kane for buckling to score on the other end to put the game to rest. Celebrations from ardent fans of West Bromwich Albion erupted. They won the war. The team scraped through and survived being relegated. The English fans didn’t have a clue how miles away from Europe many were hurt and cursed the win. Then the center referee blew his whistle. The game was over. ‘Investors’ had seen enough foolishness and were through too much pain. Like a patient that prayed for death they were rested peaceful. They accepted their fate in the loss. Their money went up in smoke. The winds blowing carried the ash. Who told them they could win the war against betting companies?
~The EQUALIZATION: The Lone Wolf.
© 2024 Marisian
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MARISIAN 
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