There’s something deeply satisfying about hearing the ball hit the back of the net, especially after a long, exhausting week of work. For me, scoring a goal is more than just a number on the scoreboard. It’s a release. A celebration. A reward.
Every week, my schedule is packed with responsibilities—client meetings, SEO strategy sessions, family errands, and mentoring students. By Friday, I’m drained. But then comes my weekly ritual: soccer with my school friends. That game is my escape, my therapy, and my joy. And when I score a goal, especially after a week of pressure, it feels like the world suddenly makes sense again.
Game Day: The Best Part of My Week
Friday is sacred. It’s not just the day of Jummah, which spiritually resets my soul—it’s also our weekly matchday. After prayers, I meet my friends at the local field. We’re not professionals, but our bond is stronger than most teams. We’ve been playing together for years—Ansar, Jyoti, Zia, Nafiz, Naheem, Wahid, and more.
The routine is familiar. We warm up, joke around, argue over team selections, and then—whistle blown—it’s game time.
Scoring a Goal Is Different When You’re an Adult
When we were kids, scoring meant glory. Now, as adults juggling work and family, scoring is a moment of freedom. It’s a breath. It’s a way to say, “I still got it.” After sitting at a desk all week or juggling client deadlines, there’s nothing like bursting past defenders, receiving a pass from Ansar, and striking clean with my left foot.
The feeling when the ball hits the net? Pure bliss. I raise my hands, sometimes scream in celebration, and run back grinning. It’s not about showing off. It’s about joy. About reminding myself that amidst all the grown-up chaos, I can still live, laugh, and celebrate like a kid.
The Power of Combination Play
I don’t dribble much. I’ve always preferred quick passes, finding pockets of space, and working in sync with teammates. Our Friday matches have become a beautiful display of one-touch soccer. Ansar and I have built this intuitive connection—he knows where I’ll be, and I know where he’ll pass. When Jyoti plays deep in midfield and feeds us, it turns into poetry.
Some of my favorite goals come from these combinations—Ansar feeding me a sharp through ball, me finishing first-time into the corner. Or Wahid and Ansar interchanging passes on the wing before I run into the box for the final touch.
That shared chemistry makes the goal even more meaningful. It’s a product of teamwork, trust, and understanding developed over countless games together.
Goals Heal Stress
When you spend all week stuck in meetings, dealing with traffic, emails, deadlines, and the occasional stress of family logistics, your brain craves a break. For me, soccer—and particularly scoring—is that break.
The moment I score, I forget everything else. No emails. No pending reports. No errands. Just the thrill of the goal and my teammates’ high-fives. It’s a stress-relief package packed into a second.
Even my daughter Munasir, who often comes to the field with me, understands it. She claps when I score, and sometimes I see her trying to mimic my runs at home. Seeing her joy doubles mine. It reminds me why I keep playing.
Celebration, Laughter, and Brotherhood
After a goal, the celebration isn’t always flashy. Sometimes it’s a group hug. Sometimes it’s loud banter—“Oi left-footer!” or “Messi would be proud!” Sometimes, we just laugh and jog back to restart.
Then comes post-match snacks, gossip, and stories. We joke about missed chances, argue over fouls, and laugh about the time Zia tried a bicycle kick and fell flat. These moments extend the joy beyond the game.
Even our kids enjoy the vibe. They chase after the ball during halftime, learn to cheer, and absorb the importance of togetherness.
Why I’ll Keep Scoring as Long as I Can
I don’t play for trophies or fans. I play for moments—like a perfect pass, a clean strike, and the roar of a goal that cuts through the noise of life. Scoring after a tiring week is like turning a new page. It recharges me.
And as long as I can run, pass, and shoot, I’ll keep chasing that joy—every Friday, with my friends, with my left foot ready.
