Fiction: My hero? (Mi héroe) [EN/ES]
My hero?
It was a day like any other day in high school. The routine came and went in a daily cyclical living. I woke up with much enthusiasm, the last day of school had finally arrived. I longed to be free and finally rest from the stress of the week.
I found myself walking down the hallway of the high school, amidst the hustle and bustle of young voices and the celebration of the weekend. Youth was lived to the fullest in this unstable social ecosystem of raging hormones. As I wandered into this hive of social and immature, I encountered the school's best soccer player.
Tim was his name, the diamond in the rough who had led us to the winning ways. Liberty was winning every game at the hands of Tim. This kid had arrived six months ago and already had our team in the top spots. As expected Tim was surrounded by many fans, some asked for autographs, and others took pictures with him. He was an all-powerful god in high school.
I passed close to the group that idolized Tim, I entered the hustle and bustle of the kids, someone pushed me hard toward the young idol and we fell together. I thought the worst for a moment. Tim with a big smile got up and shook my hand, then laughed.
"Hey, bro, you're doing well." His blue eyes sparkled in uncharacteristic joy.
"Yeah... Yes... Yes... Just...it was just a little.... bump. I beg you... apology... you." My tongue was in a knot with no way to untie it.
"Don't worry, bro. What's your name?" He fixed his eyes on me waiting for an answer.
"I'm Garry," I told him with unbridled enthusiasm.
"All right, Garry. I hope to see you at the game this Saturday. We're going for the state final." When he finished talking, the guys whisked him out of my sight.
All I could do was point with a thumbs up as Tim disappeared behind the doors. That insignificant act made me see Tim as more than just an American football player, I saw him as a simple, charismatic, and humble hero.
Saturday came and it was with great joy that I headed out to watch the team play this important game. The high school field was packed with spectators. The drums could be heard booming all over the field. Laughter and cheers decorated the splendid evening, which would witness Liberty High School's greatest achievement in its history.
We had our great quarterback Tim, who showed great confidence for the game. I got as close as I could to the locker room exit. I just wanted to say hello to Tim and wish him good luck in the game, although I didn't need to as we had a great hero playing on our team.
The court was still in the routine of revelry and hustle and bustle. The spectacle was simply exciting and seductive with its colorful smoke, flying papers, and fireworks that decorated the starry sky of that magical and sublime night.
After much waiting, over the loudspeakers of the court, a deep voice could be heard announcing the departure of the teams. "Good night, people of Liberty High School. Today we have the big game between the Cannons versus our beloved Cougars." The crowd erupted in uproar as the announcer introduced the Liberty Cougars.
The atmosphere was spellbinding, it gripped every one of the senses and sent adrenaline coursing through every pore of the skin. Bodies surrendered to the ecstasy of the game. After a few minutes, the players of our high school were leaving one by one.
My eyes sparkled like two shining stars. My alertness sharpened with the clear goal in mind, to greet Tim. At that instant, the players came out onto the field and were cheered like great conquerors arriving at their beloved. I shouted Tim's name at the top of my lungs, after a few moments and from the noises, Tim turned his face and made the victory gesture with his hand, and a big smile accompanied his step where I was.
The opposing team came out and after the presentation protocols, the game finally began. One of the players took the first kick of the night and the opposing team took the ball, the shouts continued cheering the team and especially Tim, our great hero.
The minutes passed, and the cheering did not stop in the audience, after a couple of touchdowns, the teams were tied on the scoreboard. The game was closed and there was no clear winner. The teams went to the halftime break.
Tim had given it his all and was shining brightly. As we entered the locker room he greeted me and I even thought he said my name, but the din of the crowd made it hard to hear. After a few minutes, the two teams came out to finish the game. The whistle blew, and the teams engaged in a new battle.
People were still chanting and cheering for Tim. I was doing the same and just praying that Tim would make us win this great game that would get us through to the finals. The minutes passed quickly, and I felt like I was a balloon about to burst. On the last play our team, the Cougars were down two points, with the timer at 10 seconds and a first and goal. The die seemed cast.
I looked at Tim concentrating on organizing the attack. The whistle blew and the planned play was destroyed by the opposing team. The runners had been intercepted, and there was only one thing left to do... Tim took the ball and ran to the white line to score a touchdown. In that instant, everything went in slow motion.
Tim jumped through the defenders and had a clear path to the end zone. We all stood up and started screaming. The win looked like it was ours, but in the blink of an eye, one of the defenders came out of nowhere and knocked Tim down. The crowd went silent, and then the referee's whistle blew to end the game. We had lost.
All that had been joy turned to sadness. Dreams shattered like crystal glass. People left the field disappointed, and I just stood there, watching Tim sitting on the field, on that white line that never saw the ball go by.
I felt it was my duty to go and console the fallen hero. I entered the field and ran over to Tim, I could see him crestfallen, and then some words came out of my mouth. "Don't worry bro, it will be next season."
He stood up and looked at me, then pushed me and said. "Get off you asshole."
I felt my heart break into pieces, and as I watched Tim get lost in the locker room, I stood there in the middle of the field, looking up at the firmament and thinking about how fake some heroes are.
The end
¿Mi héroe?
Era un día como todos en la secundaria. La rutina iba y venía en un cíclico vivir diario. Me levanté con mucho entusiasmo, finalmente llegó el último día de clases. Ansiaba ser libre y descansar por fin del estrés de la semana.
Me encontré caminando por el pasillo de la secundaria, entre el bullicio de las voces jóvenes y el festejo por el fin de semana. La juventud se vivía a plenitud en este ecosistema social inestable de hormonas en revolución. Mientras me adentraba en esta colmena de social e inmadura, me encontré con el mejor jugador de fútbol americano de la escuela.
Tim, se llamaba el diamante en bruto, que nos había llevado a las huestes del triunfo. La escuela Liberty ganaba cada partido a manos de Tim. Este chico había llegado hace seis meses y ya tenía a nuestro equipo en los primeros lugares. Cómo era de esperarse Tim estaba rodeado de muchos admiradores, algunos pedían autógrafos, otros se sacaban fotos con él, en fin, era un dios todo poderoso en la secundaria.
Yo pasé cerca del grupo que idolatraba a Tim, entré en ese bullicio de los chicos, alguien me empujó con fuerza hacia el joven ídolo y caímos juntos. Pensé lo peor por un momento. Tim con una gran sonrisa se levantó y me dio la mano, luego se rió.
«Hola, amigo, te encuentras bien». Sus ojos azules brillaban en una inusitada alegría.
«Sí... Sí... Sí... Solo... fue un pequeño... golpe. Te pido... disculpa... tú ». Mi lengua se hacía un nudo sin poder desatarla.
«No te preocupes, hermano. ¿Cómo te llamas?». Fijó sus ojos en mí esperando una respuesta.
«Soy Garry». Le dije con un entusiasmo desbordante.
«Muy bien, Garry. Espero verte en el partido de este sábado. Vamos a ir por la final estatal». Cuando terminó de hablar, los chicos se lo llevaron fuera de mi vista.
Lo único que pude hacer es señalar con el pulgar arriba, mientras Tim se iba perdiendo tras las puertas. Ese acto tan insignificante me hizo ver a Tim como algo más que un jugador fútbol, lo vi como un héroe sencillo, carismático y humilde.
Llegó el sábado y con una gran alegría me dirigí a ver al equipo jugar este partido tan importante. La cancha de la secundaria estaba abarrotada de público. Los tambores se oían retumbar por todo el campo de juego. Las risas y los gritos decoraban la espléndida noche, que sería testigo de la más grande hazaña de la secundaria Liberty en toda su historia.
Teníamos a nuestro gran mariscal Tim, que mostraba gran confianza para el partido. Yo me acerque lo más que pude a la salida de los vestuarios. Solo quería saludar a Tim y desearle buena suerte en el partido, aunque no la necesitaba ya que teníamos a un gran héroe jugando en nuestro equipo.
La cancha seguía en la rutina de jolgorio y bullicio. El espectáculo era sencillamente apasionante y seducía con su humo de colores, papeles volando y juegos artificiales que decoraban el cielo estrellado de aquella noche mágica y sublime.
Luego de mucho esperar, por los altavoces de la cancha se escuchó una voz profunda anunciar la salida de los equipos. «Buena noche, gente de la secundaria Liberty. Hoy tenemos el gran partido entre los Cañones versus nuestros amados Pumas». La gente reventó en alboroto cuando el anunciador presentó a los Pumas de Liberty.
La atmósfera era hechizante, atrapaba cada uno de los sentidos y hacia recorrer la adrenalina por cada poro de la piel. Los cuerpos se entregaban al éxtasis del juego. Después de unos minutos fueron saliendo uno por los jugadores de nuestra secundaria.
Mis ojos brillaban como dos estrellas refulgentes. Mi estado de alerta se agudizó con el claro objetivo en mente, saludar a Tim. En ese instante, los jugadores fueron saliendo al campo de juego y eran ovacionados como grandes conquistadores que llegaban donde la amada. Yo grité a todo pulmón el nombre de Tim, luego de unos instantes y de entre los ruidos, Tim volteo el rostro y me hizo el gesto de la victoria con la mano, y una gran sonrisa acompañó su paso por donde yo estaba.
Salió el equipo rival y luego de los protocolos de presentación, el juego comenzó al fin. Uno de los jugadores dio el primer chute de la noche y el equipo contrario tomó el balón, seguían los gritos animando al equipo y sobre todo a Tim, nuestro gran héroe.
Los minutos pasaban, y la algarabía no cesaba en el público asistente, luego de un par de touchdowns, los equipos iban empatados en el marcador. El partido estaba totalmente cerrado y no se miraba un claro ganador. Los equipos se fueron al descanso de medio tiempo.
Tim lo había dado todo y estaba brillando con luz propia. Al entrar a los vestuarios me saludó y hasta creí que dijo mi nombre, pero el bullicio de la multitud no dejó escuchar. Después de unos minutos, los dos equipos salieron a terminar el partido. Sonó el pitazo y los equipos se enfrascaron en un nuevo combate.
La gente seguía cantando y animando a Tim, yo también hacía lo propio y solo pedía que Tim nos haga ganar este gran juego que nos haría pasar a la final. Los minutos pasaron rápidamente y yo sentía que era un globo de nervios a punto de estallar. En la última jugada nuestro equipo, los pumas estaban dos puntos abajo, con el cronómetro en 10 segundos y un primero y gol. La suerte parecía echada.
Miré a Tim concentrado en organizar el ataque. Sonó el pitazo y la jugada planeada fue destruida por el equipo rival. Los corredores habían sido interceptados y solo quedaba una cosa por hacer... Tim tomo el ovoide y corrió hasta la línea blanca para anotar un touchdown, en ese instante todo fue en cámara lenta.
Tim saltó por entre los defensores y tenía el camino libre para la zona de anotación. Todos nos levantamos y empezamos a gritar. El triunfo parecía nuestro, pero en un pestañeo, uno de los defensores salió de la nada y derribó a Tim. La gente quedó en silencio y luego el pitazo del árbitro sentenció el final del juego. Habíamos perdido.
Todo lo que había sido alegría se convirtió en tristeza. Los sueños se rompieron como un vaso de cristal. La gente salió decepcionada de la cancha y yo solo me quedé allí, viendo a Tim sentado en el campo, en esa línea blanca que nunca vio pasar el ovoide.
Sentí que era ni deber ir a consolar al héroe caído. Entré al campo y corrí hacia Tim, lo veía cabizbajo y luego unas palabras salieron de mi boca. «No te preocupes, hermano, será la próxima temporada».
Se levantó y me miró, después me empujó y me dijo. «Quítate imbécil».
Sentí como mi corazón se partía en pedazos y mientras vi a Tim perderse en los vestidores, me quedé allí en medio del campo, viendo al firmamento y pensando en lo falsos que son algunos héroes.
Fin
Source 1 Source 2 Source 3 Source 4
Edited by Rincón Poético.
Text authored by:
Camilo Torres
DRA
¡Thanks for you reading!
I hope you don't mind me saying, but this is a great story. We see Tim grow from a newcomer to the team to a beloved hero.
The part where the story takes an unexpected turn as Tim is tackled at the last minute, and the team loses kept me engaged.
You made me move from excitement and joy of many winnings to disappointment and sadness for losing in the last minute of the game.
The best part? The descriptions of the high school environment, the game, and the crowd created vivid images in my mind.
Well done @rinconpoetico7
Thank you for stopping by and leaving your kind comment. I really like that you liked the story. The idea was precisely to take an unexpected turn.
Good day.
The enthusiastic feeling of the crowd before and during the game was enchanting that I could feel it.
Tim played well with is team mates and the crowd cheered to his performance until the final moment when the silence came.
That's just it. Tim felt lost and angry, and I hope he'll come back around.
Thank you for your time and for your appreciation of history. I'm very glad you had a fun time reading the story.
Good day.
Yes, I did. Thank you
How terribly sad for your MC that he ends up bearing the brunt of his hero's disappointment. It seems that Tim is not a particularly nice young man. His lack of sportsmanship results in him treating his fans very poorly when he loses.
You create the setting nicely and set the story up for sportsmanship, only to turn it on its head and show us the very antithesis of it! Completely unexpected and nicely done. There was one unfortunate thing and that is the fact that your English translation simply ended mid-sentence. It is always best to review you work fully and edit as necessary before publication.
Thank you for leaving your comment, I always value what you have to say. Unfortunately, an error on our part took the shine off the story. We apologize to you and all readers. Let's add the missing piece.
Un abrazo @theinkwell
Happy day.
Well, I couldn't determine what actually happened at the end but it seems Tim had a terrible way of responding to losses. For someone of his calibre, someone who's talent is highly recognized and appreciated, he could have atleast showed a little bit of Sportsmanship after the game. Nice story ✨
Thank you for stopping by and leaving your kind comment. I'm glad you liked the story. We wanted to show that some players are not what they seem.
Good day.
I liked the story, it was the description of a hero, unfortunately that hero lost his essence when he suffered defeat, that humility and charisma vanished. And all those admirers abandoned him, Garry understood what it was like to be alone and to be set apart, his admiration was not born from a simple idol acclaimed by many, it came from seeing that hero be adaptable and empathetic. I feel that in the end Garry was a hero because he stayed to the end and tried to encourage, comfort and support, those heroes who often don't win medals or trophies, but can win hearts, even if they are not valued.