By: Efren Joross Jusa
The school bell rings, it’s 3 pm, class has ended. My friends and I grab our bags quickly and head to the soccer field in anticipation. We switched our school shoes for our soccer shoes ready for a fun afternoon of playing. We started playing, the sounds of running and kicking the ball echo throughout the field.
After a while, we took a quick break. Then at that time, some other kids set up a picnic blanket by the left-hand corner of the field and brought out some plastic containers with food, clearly setting up a picnic. Once I saw them, I approached them and told them that we were using the field to play soccer. But they didn’t care, telling me “Why do we have to leave? Do you own this field?” I rebutted with “This is a soccer field; it’s meant to be used for soccer not picnics. Can’t you find some other open area to have a picnic in?” “What if any of you got hit with the ball?” I added but they just wouldn’t budge, and there was nothing else I could do, so after our quick breather we continued to play even if they were still in the field.
So, there we were, our game continuing after our short break. Because my opponent was guarding me very well, he had left me with a difficult choice. the teammate in closest proximity to me is in the direction where the picnic kids sat, so I had to risk losing or I had to pass it despite the possibility of the ball hitting them. I had a gut feeling that I shouldn’t but I thought to myself in that moment, “why should we lose just because of the picnic kids”.
So there went the ball, whirring through the grass. In retrospect, my instincts told me to not pass it towards my teammate as I did not want to stir trouble, however the competitiveness in me gave leeway to the eventual pass. I tracked the ball as it cut through the grass towards my teammate, confident that he will catch it. But then, my teammate missed the pass by a few centimeters and then chaos ensued.
The ball hit their food, sending cookies, chips, and juice boxes all flying. One girl cried, and the rest of the group got angry. I told them that this might happen but they didn’t listen. The rest of my friends joined in the argument. After arguing back and forth, one of them, in a fit of rage went to a teacher and told on us.
Once the teacher came, I stood confidently knowing she’d take our side, after all we weren’t doing anything wrong but playing where we should be. And yet by a cruel twist of fate, the teacher started scolding me for ruining their picnic. I tried to argue the same things I had told the picnic group, but my teacher wasn’t having it. I was then forced to apologize to the picnic kids, despite me not knowing what I did wrong, it wasn’t my fault but theirs. As the words “I’m sorry” started to leak from my mouth, certain thoughts of confusion swirled in my head. “Why was I getting punished?”