One Look

As I stand on that muddy grass field,
The roar of the cheering crowds
Is all I seem to hear.
No specific voices, its all just a blur
The only person I really notice,
Is the yelling of my coach.

As I go to challenge the ball,
I think, “I want my coach to be proud of me”,
The ball is at me feet, I have to be quick.
I dribble up the side of the field,
Cut in and cross, one touch,
From another player, and Goal!
I know my coach is proud of me,
From just one look.

Walking to the car,
Ball in hand, covered all in mud,
I receive compliments on a great game,
I say thanks but all that matters,
After the game winning goal.
Is that one look from my coach.