there was a boy who loved football. and he was good at it. football was his life, his first love, or so he claimed.

and football loved the boy, so to speak. the boy had a terrific footballing brain, able to instinctively understand the flow of the game, was athletic and had a feather-light touch.

he played football many times a week, but he never tired of it. he enjoyed football, and he got into his school's football team because of his ability with a football.

but one day, he gave football up. no, he didn't declare that he didn't wish to play football anymore, and he was almost oblivious to his giving up of his passion. but he began not turning up for his football trainings. he said that he was fatigued. though he used to claim that football revitalizes him. keeps him sharp. and when he does report to training, he was late.

and he began engaging in other sports. he played basketball, table tennis, badminton, tennis and the likes in place of football. (it is acceptable, most surely, for one to play different games at the same time, but when one is serious about a particular game, when one wants to take on a sport competitively, one has got to choose. something's got to give. you can't have your cake and still eat it.) of course, he still turned up for training occasionally, but the appearances were getting fewer and further in between. and problems appeared. he wasn't getting selected in the tournament squads, and his coach was unhappy with his attendance. but instead of pulling his sock up, (despite the knee-high length of football socks) these set-backs only served to push him further away from football.

'i'm just tired from football. i need a break,' the boy would remark.

and so took a break he did, and in the end he was dropped from the team. that jolted him. the other games were fun. but not fun enough. never fun enough. not as good as football. never could be as good as football, he realized at long last. after he's lost his place in the team, after the long break from football, after the breaking point.

he wanted back. the boy wanted to get back into the team. he wanted to play football again. he wanted things to be like they were before, before he screwed up.

'is that too hard to achieve?' he asked.

perhaps it was. perhaps it wasn't. who knows about such things?

but the boy had it going for him. he was in the team, he was able with a football, he thought that he had it all worked out. maybe he got arrogant. maybe he really was fatigued. maybe he took things for granted. maybe, but now, he's got to do things the hard way, he's got to fight, just to have things the way they were, to get back into the team he was once a part of.

but there would be no guarantee that things would return to what they once were.