M i l k and P e l é

Declan and I drove west, about 60 miles to shoot the sun setting over this mini Salt Flats area. I had seen this valley whilst hiking the mountains on this horizon and had wanted to touch it, it had the look of a bowl of milk from high in the mountains.

As we were awaiting the setting sun, we played a bit of football/soccer. I had not played since I was 14, and now I remember why.

When I was young, I was fascinated by Pelé's ability to perform a "bicycle kick" with grace and ease. I thought that I should try this in the first game of my season.

My heroic move came as the ball was let loose in my direction from an attack on our goal; this was my opportunity to prove myself to my team! As I watched the ball bounce my way, I positioned myself to let my bicycle kick fly! I launched into my reverse somersault, my cleats digging into the soil, feeling my foot connect with the ball, I awaited the cheers, but none came, only hushed silence. When I climbed up off the ground, I looked at where the ball should be, but everybody was pointing in the other direction.

I turned and there the ball sat, in our goal, my teams goal, my goal.... I had just joined the other team, as a traitor. End of career. Pelé, I am not.