When I was in third grade, the most fun and unforgettable thing was playing soccer right after school. All my friends ran to the outdoor basketball court to play soccer with me. We didn't have a soccer ball, so we tried to find a substitute. Finally, we got one: a tennis ball. We didn't have a monopoly on soccer; we played with other seniors. We didn't know each other, but it was fun. Boys and girls joined in. It didn't matter what gender they wanted to play soccer. No one played emotionally; everyone played with joy and laughter.
After a few hours of playing, there was a free kick opportunity, and it was my turn to kick it. With great pride and feeling like Roberto Carlos, I kicked it with a bang. The tennis ball flew high and into the principal's office window.
“PRAAANGGG!!!” the sound of the window breaking.
My friends, I, and the seniors immediately scattered like ants, some pretending to read books; some pretending to do their homework; and some simply running out of the school.
This is my story that will never be forgotten from my mind.
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