The Winning Goalie

“Mama, look!” Hank nudged his mother. She sat dozing in the stadium suite in front of the window.

“What? What?” she said, blinking her eyes and shaking her head. “Is the game over?”

“No, Mama, Stefan is playing now. See? He’s right there?” He pointed to a lone figure in front of the goal.

“Where’s the rest of the team?” she asked.

Hank pointed to the mob in front of the other goal. “Down there,” he said.

She watched Stefan shuffle around in front of the goal he was protecting.

He scratched his arm, looked up at the sky, bent down and picked something up off the ground. He shuffled around more, then waved in their direction with a big smile.

Shuffle, shuffle.

She started to doze again, but Hank nudged her. “Look, Mama, the ball is coming!”

The ball WAS coming his way. Stefan straightened up, then crouched a little, hands on knees. He was ready; anybody could see that.

She could hear his teammates shouting: “The ball is coming, Stefan!” “Get ready!” “Pick it up! Pick it up!”

She furrowed her brow. They seemed to be letting the ball advance towards their own goal. The other team didn’t seem to be trying at all.

Stefan bent, picked up the ball, and threw it with all his might.

The final buzzer sounded.

His teammates gathered round him, high-fiving and celebrating.

And the boy with the round flat face and almond-shaped eyes beamed as only someone with Down Syndrome can.

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My somewhat late contribution to the Unicorn Challenge.

The Unicorn Challenge is simple: 250 words based on the photo. That’s it.