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Silver and Red
There on that shelf, next to my football photos, my ball. Not just any ball, silver and red, small, slightly torn, but always my favorite. After all these years, I still remember that moment in which they said my name and I standed up to go and pick it up. A sea of emotions in me, all for a ball, one silver and red ball. Such an important game like that, is rewarded with medals, trophies, but that ball, oh, that ball is worth more than that. Few times I have used it, rarely has known the air when thrown. It has come with me to all kinds of places. I cannot go anywhere without it. Why am I so attached to it? Why not treat him like an ordinary ball? As much as I cling to these questions, and try to change it, I cannot. That is because it defines me, defines my work and dedication, all the effort I put in that season, and in that particular game. Silver and red colors that I will never forget, colors that will stay with me forever. The ball silver and red, the only possetion that I would not share. That object which would be the first I will take out in case of a fire. Why am I so attached to it? Why not treat him like an ordinary ball? I am attached to that ball, because that ball is me. I do not treat it like an ordinary because it is not an ordinary ball. This ball has a history, a number, a team, and many feelings. This ball can be silver and red, but worth gold.
