Mr. Phihl had several thoughts at once but the most pronounced of them, like an image before him, though it was like a taste in his mouth when he had nothing in his mouth, or an idea in his head when he was thinking of nothing in particular, “pronounced” to that degree, was that he was looking down at a soccer game and La Sex and AndWell and Dirpeeto and Leonistic were on the team and Biliby of course was the captain of the team and Erich was the player that all of the fans and many of the players of the soccer team all hated and positively could not stand because he was always playing below his level and always blaming others for his mistakes and for achieving below what he would have been capable of had he at least tried.
And Biliby (who was not always known for his attainment or achievement but was ever known for his trying and his positive attitude and his hope, a person who did never ever ever give up) did dutifully earnestly selflessly pass the ball crisply to Orland, who trapped and pushed it forward himself; made as if he would dribble forward, then cut the ball sharply to his right, with suddenness creating a shield or fortress around the ball with his flank; pushed it forward then launched it with a nice touch to the distant Freidma who surprised everyone by not trapping or otherwise stopping it but by immediately volleying it to the distant charging Erich;
Erich who was charging for it harder than he ever had charged, as if the energy he’d saved from all his previous half-ass efforts were suddenly manifesting itself and expending itself in this run of all runs, a reserve from all of his lame lazy shuffles accreting into this burst of blazing speed;
And reaching the ball he was barely able to control it for his speed, but he could not reduce his speed, for the defenders’ harassing steps so close behind him and for the way they pulled at him and his shirt with their arms so the ref couldn’t see, and it bounced upon his thigh and it bounced upon (surprisingly) his cheek so he could not kick it from the ground but to give it a half-volley himself on the run;
a half-volley on the run, and how it was struck: and the shot, which left the goal keeper as frozen in time with indecision as a statue (crow-and-ice covered and time worn, a still and impotent indecisive form incapable not just of motion but of knowing how to move: one could see the still statue of the goal keepers thought carved out of the shot of Erich) though it was taken from beyond twenty yards out and seemed composed of all the energy that had been wanting in his past efforts, his lazy intercepted passes, his clumsy and lethargic touches, his inattentive and enervated strolling and jogging; in short, everything which had been previously absent was now powerfully present and seemed part of the extraordinary composite of this astounding goal;
and at once the heads of Orland and Biliby and Freidma –with their hands pressed to their heads as if they yet had trouble keeping it in– as if a star (named this had happened) within a star (name through the agency of Erich) had exploded within their heads– the play had developed so quickly and had had so astounding a result, it was all so amazing, it had all occurred in the nick of time; yet instead of the redeemed Erich being piled upon by playmates, instead of the hated Erich feeling the surprising ecstasy of being transferred from the villain column to the hero column in the minds of players and fans alike, it was the inconsequential Mr Phihl, who experienced all this;
it was Mr. Phihl, thought Mr. Phihl, I’ve done it!; and when he could see daylight no more, he was so piled upon by people adoring him, then he felt himself in the forehead of a giant being looking down. It was as if for instance he was in the observation lounge of the Statue of Liberty, looking down at the soccer field, whereupon he suddenly figured it out that it was his own forehead he was present in, not a statue’s, and he opened his eyes and heard a small dog’s yap, which must have come from a great distance, it was so faint.
.i`` * ^ / . . . . . ` `~ 