There Are Kicks

The photo is an honest to Pete mid-flight soccer kick.
Two more seconds, and the boy, still airborne, wailed the soccer ball with his left foot, sending the thing about twenty, thirty feet high. The ball tore a straight line up toward the sky.

"I've won three trophies," he said, matter of factly, head looking down, foot sweeping the wintry grass.

I asked him to do it again. I had to see this mind-boggling stunt again. There are kicks, and then there are kicks that freshen the world.

Up until that moment, the day had appeared like any other.