My painting would be me in football kit in a massive stadium beaten and bruised using crouches but with a football still at my feet as I try to keep playing. Bright white flood lights shining down on my showing that I am in the spotlight and everyone is having their eyes on me. But, pitch black in the crowd because I am all alone in my journey without any support. The grass is lush and bright green to show my positivity.
There would be cast over my left foot because in 2016 I broke my metatarsal. It was a match which we needed to win in order to make it to the Play-Offs. A game when the team needed me most and because I knew I was good I began to showboat which vexed the opposition as they saw it disrespect. The opposition’s defender made a dangerous tackle on me. They brought a stretcher and carried me off the field. I was sobbing on that stretcher, not because of the pain but because I gave the game away. Because I am my harshest critic, I was angry with myself for weeks that game. I was angry at the fact I had to show off how good I was I threw away my teams’ chance of lifting a trophy. I completely forgot that football is a team sport and I made the game all about me. In that game I put an “I” in team to prove I was the best. That game made me a leader of men as I was able to learn the values of a team and lead the U16 team to the quarter finals of the league. In the painting my eyes would down facing and my head bending down with disappointment be tear drops running down my face with strong brush strokes to show my pain. The brush strokes around my body would be hard and extended to represent my grit and my endurance.
In my painting I would have a white towel hanging over my shoulder with a little bit of my blood and a few tears on it. The towel would represent my endurance, determination and determination “not throwing in the towel” to become a professional footballer. The blood would represent the pain I went through to get where I am now, the brutal tackles, broken bones, sprains, bruises and pulled muscles. Tears would represent the emotional pain, clubs rejecting me, frustration during physiotherapy, losing finals and no one believing in me. No one believing me was the toughest pain. My parents pretended to believe in me but I could see right through their fake smiles and motivation. The only person who believed in me was me and that’s all I needed, that’s all anyone needs, self-belief. When I was 12, I was not selected for the district team. My family condoned me but no one said keep trying you’ll make it next year. I went back to the trails again and got selected, that’s when I realised, it doesn’t matter what anybody thinks or says about your goal or dream you only one person to believe in you and that’s yourself. There would be a small yellow light radiating from my chest to represent my inner self belief and it would stand out because as I mention above it is pitch black in the crowd.
My painting is all about my progress as an aspiring football player. “No pain, no gain” without the rejection, hard tackles and getting hurt, I wouldn’t be as resilient and have the self-belief I have in myself today.