(Omraj Jha, X ‘A’)
Once upon a time, in a small village, there lived a boy named Hari. He was a skillful football player. He played for a local football team and attended practice sessions regularly. His father was poor and blind, but he did everything in his ability to support his son. Whether it be selling possessions or working at such an old age, his father had done it all.
The final match of a very important tournament was only two weeks away. That day, the boy did not show up to practice. The coach was shocked. “How can he be missing practice session now?” he thought to himself. The two weeks passed by but the boy did not show up. Worried, the coach was about to substitute him with another player, the boy arrived. He said, “Coach, I’m here.” The coach stood there in confusion. The boy got down on his knees. Tears were streaming down his face. He said again, “Coach, please let me play. I won’t let you down.” The boy was usually very quiet and reserved. He had never pleaded like that before. The coach hesitantly agreed to the boy’s request. The final match began and the boy played like a house on fire. He easily became the best player of the match and won the tournament for the team.
After the match, the coach walked up to the boy and uttered just one word, “How?” The boy replied, “Coach, I think you remember. My father used to sit on that bench and watch me play.” “Yes, I do,” the coach replied. Catching his breath, the boy said, “I didn’t tell you something. My father was blind. He died two weeks ago. Today, he is watching me from the heavens. I don’t play for the trophy, coach. I play for God. I play to be a better man. Today, my father is watching the boy he raised.” Hari touched the coach’s feet and walked away. The coach, with eyes full of tears, smiled at the boy.
(Based on the popular internet anecdote, as adapted in You Can Win by Shiv Khera.)