Mini-post
Such a beautiful phrase, mini-post. From the miniature of beginnings to the sturdy happenings, we all have developed quite a fancy for mini-post. Its not just the post of some steel with 1 meter square length and height, it is more than just that. It is more of the two bundled stones kept at same distance , visible to the eyes from the other side. There would normally be 4 players from each side. In a local community, the elderly would most probably go for striking forward and leave the responsibility of big “Defense” to the younger one. We start to play this sport since when we can’t even remember now. Such young of an age, and such tendency to the collaborative movement. A collective effort of a team to achieve a certain “goal” is surely thrilling. And when a team scores the ball into the post, there would be an out-roar of excitement and jumping, Cristiano Ronaldo celebration and what-not. Teamwork is such a thing that can make a defender jump with excitement when the striker scores. Coming to the present time, mini-post is seen less because of the newly to be built or built houses on the once-barren field of playground, a haven for kids to equivalent exchange of universal energy everyday.
Personally, being a moderately high stamina player, I would look forward to score some Lewandowski-number of goals in every game and its not that hard. When I get the ball, my mind finds it hard to get conscious enough about the reality, as I am totally focused on the working muscles and the dogmatic screening of the intuition and imitation of visuals and practice throughout the years. I would dribble the ball ,with short steps, in smaller distance, with rapid scope for direction change, to beat all the opponents all the way to their goalpost. I feel hesitant to pass but do it anyway for the formality. I would just fool around doing slow motion feet tap dancing making sure no one notices while I wait for someone to pass me the ball. And sometimes, I dance to the rhythm of the melody that the presence of the ball beside my feet provide , un-hearable but still so loud, music-less but still so catchy.
I would turn my right leg to the clockwise direction from inward to ball to feint and dribble with left leg to get past opponents, Ronaldoic style. So, basically, I get the gist to be Ronaldinho while I dance no-look and butt twist. Messi when I fast-twitch and Ronaldo when I do that clockwise thing and , then I get to dribble like Mbappe, so long that most of the time it gets out of my possession, resembling the foreshadowing of my will to cover a greater distance than I am capable of, and this is all too subconscious. Everything that happens in the playground is subconscious and intuitive. The only conscious feeling is when you score a goal. But, that too becomes default and normal when you get to score a lot of goals per game aye. So, hah, basically, I do that break dance thingy when I am defending the ball and most of the times , they get drunk to the movements of my legs so twirly, sturdy, whirly and Inazuma Elevenaic, as if the wind of the wave gets the ball away from their feet to mine, . its such an automatic thing. The only time the ball gets past me is either when I am off-guard or I-tired. But I-tired is a phrase that I don’t want to make reality. Some games are too long and some too short. Most of the time, disappointment hits me when the others decide to leave saying they are too tired, when it’s just been warm-up for me. Like, come on’ ,not fair! Feels great to master the pass and play game intuition though.
There is this little guy I adore. He would always get in my team even if the odds should be against us. He trusts me. He sees me as the “dai” who can do anything really. Like, stop, really! , too much butter in the life of bread can be GI stress inducingly painful sometimes.. But, I guess, I would have to consider that the Parahelio effect to the first out-of-room white innocence ‘eye’. Those sparkling part-brown part-black eyes, voice so sweet and energy so lovely. I feel glad to be that “someone” for him and I am pretty sure he will be as great as(if not more)) he thinks of me , when he gets bigger. It will be pretty lit to see him appreciate all the bousy gousy and fowzy things in life. But, for now, mini -post is what he resembles for me. Such little space , yet bigger invitation. Such dark and rosy-thorns , yet so fluffy. “Mini-post” is what all the amazing humans like you do resemble. A “mini-post” is the get-away from all the sluggy , sticky and slumpy bars that one faces in life.
A mini-post is a real thing. It is. Perking up all of our mini chambers of beating asset to such an extent that post-guard and postfix nature of the postmodern art just lightens up the classical picture that we always had in our scope of nostalgic yearnings. So, go out there and , kick the ball and start to run. Who knows, you might give someone a chance to relinquish the joy of being nutmegged or, even the thriller of the post bar hit, and wait, don’t forget to glance at the face of the player who just conceded a goal. That is just pure satisfaction(hah!). Go ahead and pat them on the shoulders, and politely say, “ You surely have the bright potential to eat more goals.” So, have to give it our best and enjoy them while such times last, aye?