Super Mario Anuj Khemka - Illustrations by Aman Khemka

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Super Mario Anuj Khemka - Illustrations by Aman Khemka
Super Mario
                             by
                     Anuj Khemka

              Illustrations by Aman Khemka

Super Mario        by Anuj Khemka            Page | 1 of 13
Preface

       It all started when I saw Mario Gotze blast the winning goal of the
2014 FIFA World Cup into the net. It fascinated me, how a mere substitute
could help his team win the most important stage in international soccer. I
couldn’t escape the urge to share with others how Mario Gotze might felt in
his long journey from sub to legend. I wrote this story mainly to share my
perspective of Mario Gotze’s story. It includes some made up events but is
mostly based on true facts. I don’t have much more to say, so now I give you
permission to turn the next page and let yourself be intrigued by Mario
Gotze’s captivating story.

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Standing just in front of two Brazilian defenders, I saw Toni pass the
ball past my guardians and into the eighteen yard box. I zipped towards it,
the goalie rushing towards me, ready to stop any shot put his way. My mind
worked rapidly, brainstorming ways to put the ball in the back of the net. In
less than a second, I had come to a decision. Using the outside of my foot I
cut the ball to the left. The goalie dove to my feet, hands stretched out,
attempting to snatch the ball away from me. Before he could succeed, I had
dribbled the ball around him. However, I was having trouble slowing down
so I could put my country up two to zero before dribbling out of bounce. I
would have to send a mind-blowing curve ball into the goal right this
moment if I didn’t want to blow this amazing chance. Worse, I would be the
laughing stock of the locker room. Using my outside foot for the second
time in that minute, I curved the ball into the air. For one second, the

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crowd was silent. The next, it was roaring with delight as the ball settled
into the left corner of the goal. Above the loud noise of the audience, I
could hear the announcer bellowing into his microphone. "What a moment!
It's Mario Gotze's very first international goal." I ran towards the crowd
stands, showing my delight by kissing the crowd surrounding me with my
hands. A minute later, I was back on my toes, in my position as a midfielder
waiting for the other team to kick the ball off.

      When the game was over and we had won 3-2, we all headed to the
airport in a bus. As we were boarding the plane I suddenly sighted Coach
Joachim, the head coach of the Germany national soccer team beckoning
me to come stand in line with him. I nervously headed to him, unsure on the
topic Coach wanted to talk about. Anyhow I hoped it was about something
good. “You wanted to talk to me?” “Yes, yes, we’ll talk on the plane. I
booked your ticket so that you’re sitting next to me.” When we all got
settled, I reclined my seat as far as it would go and activated my built-in
massager. Then the conversation began. “Nice goal today Mario.” Coach
Joachim began. “Thanks a lot.” I humbly responded. “Would you like to play
in the World Cup.” Suddenly excitement took over. The FIFA World Cup was
possibly the biggest stage in international soccer. I wanted to take off my
seatbelt and jump up and down. However, since I was not allowed to, I
nodded my head eagerly. “Yes, yes of course sir.” “Good, I’m glad to hear
that. But you’ll have to work hard. By the way, you can call me Jo.” With
that, he turned on a movie while I closed my eyes and went to sleep.
      Suddenly, someone was shaking my shoulders screaming. " Mario!
Mario! Wake up!" Slowly, I blinked my eyes open to see Coach Joachim
leaning over me shouting. It must have been time to go. I got up from my
seat and grabbed my bag from the overhead panels rapidly. I hurried out of
the plane along with the rest of the team and Jo. There standing waiting for
me smiling, was my dad and my brothers, Felix and Fabian. Seeing them, I
ran down the plane stairs and into my dad’s bear hug. I thought that now I

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was too old for hugs , especially in public, but Dad said that I was his kid and
he was my dad, and since that custom didn’t change, why should all the
others relating to it change? Although his saying made no sense to me, I
went along with it since I enjoyed the warmth of his hug. As soon as Dad
released me from his bear hug, I went to talk to Fabian and Felix. Fabian, 21,
sometimes played against me in the Bundesliga, my domestic soccer
league,as he was on SpVgg Unterhaching and I was on Borussia Dortmund.
Felix, 12, also took interest in soccer, being a product of Dortmund Youth
Soccer Academy otherwise known as DYSA. Though nine years apart, they
were very close. For years it had puzzled me how their age difference didn't
interfere with their friendship. At the moment, Fabian and Felix were
engaged in a conversation about a contest at DYSA where if you could make
10 shots in a row against professional Borussia Dortmund goalie Roman
Weidenfeller you would get two free tickets to a concert by Ann Brommel.
Ann Brommel was one of the hottest singers in all of Germany. Everybody
had at least heard of her if not idolized her. I was one of the few people in
Memmingen who did not understand why everybody marveled at her.
Annoyed by Fabian and Felix's constant blabbering I barged in on their
conversation. Felix stopped talking midway through a sentence and paused
to look at me. “Mario, you're back!” He exclaimed. “Nice goal Mario.” Fabian
complimented. I high-fived both of them and we proceeded to crack some
hilarious jokes.

       As soon as all the excitement over my arrival had nearly passed, the
four of us piled into our speedy Mercedes-Benz, Dad and Fabian in the front,
Felix and I in the back. It was only a five minute drive from Dortmund Airport
to Memmingen, our hometown, so I only had to wait 300 seconds in the car
before we reached home sweet home. Living in a family that included two
skillful soccer players who played in Germany, and an accomplished
professor who taught at the Dortmund University of Technology meant that

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you were bound to be rich. Our house was the biggest house on our street
and the next three streets. It was thirty five feet tall and about 10 feet wide.
It was filled with servants and decorative wallpaper. The second the car
stopped I ran to the door and opened it. There, to greet me was my favorite
servant Kevin. “Great game Mario.” He complimented. “Thanks I said”
smiling with delight. Joy erupted everywhere inside me. I was happy to be
home.

      A year later, I was standing in Hannover stadium, about 5 hours away
from Memmingen waiting for The Faroe Islands to kick the ball off so we
could get this first game of FIFA World Cup qualifying started. The referee’s
whistle blew and the game started. The first twenty minutes didn’t consist
of too many chances and the closest chance we had was when The Faroe
Islands saved an easy shot from my teammate Thomas. Then, in the 28th
minute, the game changed. Mesut played me a short pass from just outside
the goalie box. I picked my head up and scanned my options. There were no
men open so I decided to dribble. I was a much better player than when I
had scored by first international goal against Brazil. I dribbled past three
players and into the goalie box. Seeing that there was an open shot I swung
my foot making contact with the ball. It rolled as fast as a cheetah and into
the net. I pumped my fist in the air and high fived my teammates. Twenty
minutes later it was halftime. The second half opened with many chances,
with Bast, short for Bastian just missing a free kick. Ten minutes after that
we took doubled our lead on a breakaway when Mesut volleyed in a cross
from Thomas. Mesut scored again after I snatched the ball away from my
opponent on their half and played a through ball to Mesut and he calmly put
the ball in the back of the net.

    After the game, we all went to Pier 51, one of the best restaurants in
Hannover to celebrate our success in the first game of 2014 FIFA World Cup

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qualifying. Having been there several times before, I ordered fish and chips
knowing that the fish and chips here were absolutely scrumptious, a result
of Germany being closer to England than most countries. As Pier 51 was an
international restaurant, the variety of dishes that my teammates had
ordered were mind-blowing. I saw Thomas, Miroslav, Toni and our goalie
Manuel eating Feijoada, a Brazilian stew of beans and although
traditionally it is beef and pork that go into the stew, the Pier 51 menu had
allowed each diner to choose two meats. Then, dining on a dish from the
United States of America, was star defender Jerome, Mesut, and my

teammate for both club and country, Marco. It was a sirloin steak with
sauteed onion, french fries, broccoli, carrots, and snow peas all topped
with chives. The last part of the main XI for Germany which included star
defenders, Philipp, Per, and Mats, were dining on a delicious dish from

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Egypt called Ful medames. Ful medames was mashed fava beans,
garnished with parsley, onions, and garlic. I had tried it once before when I
came to Pier 51, and it was absolutely delicious. The restaurant had also
added some hard boiled eggs to the dish to make it even more delicious
than the Ful medames itself already was. Coach Joachim and the assistant
coach, Coach Parker, were eating an Indian dish that included flatbread,
lentils and palak paneer. Personally, I thought it looked disgusting but
according to Coach Joachim’s face, the taste was marvelous. After Coach
had finished chewing his bite, he opened his mouth to begin a lecture to the
whole team. “May I have everybody’s attention please?” The chatter in the
room immediately quieted down, all heads turned to Coach Joachim. “First
of all, I would like to congratulate everybody on a fantastic game today. We
looked as strong as iron and The Faroe Islands had absolutely no chance of
keeping up with you. After today’s performance Mesut Ozil has earned a
definite spot in the World Cup roster if we qualify. I look forward to saying
that for other players and don’t think yourself unable to be named by me.
You may continue eating your food and when you finish, tell me, and then
you are allowed to go home.” Eventually my fish and chips had disappeared
from my plate and into my stomach. I then got up from the table, informed
Coach Joachim, and went home by a taxi. Dad was there to greet me again
and congratulated me on getting a goal. I muttered “Thank you.” in reply,
but was too tired to give a proper response. I struggled to get off my cleats
but finally succeeded and tiredly limped up to my bedroom to get some
sleep.

       The next day, Fabian and Felix were jumping all about, as Felix had
won the shooting contest at the DYSA yesterday. They were going to get to
go to the concert in four days. However, our normal activities did not
change. Felix went to DYSA, Fabian had soccer practice, Dad had to go to the
Dortmund University of Technology, and I stayed home checking fan mail

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and doing my workouts. After I had done my workouts I stepped outside to
grab the mail from our full mailbox. 25 percent of the mail was contributed
to Dad, another 25 to Fabian and fifty percent to me after my goal
yesterday. I set aside Dad and Fabian’s mail and began looking at mine.
Most of the mail came from fans who said my goal yesterday was awesome
and I got three emails from the Germany national soccer team staff
informing me about the game against Austria in three days. My last piece of
mail came from Marco which said “meet me at Memmingen Park today at
12 p.m”. I had no idea what this meeting was about, but because I had a
close relationship with Marco, I would leave the house at 11:45. It was only
11:00 so I turned on the television and watched the replay of yesterdays
match against Faroe Islands until it was time to go at 11:45.

       When it was halftime, I checked the time and saw that it was a
shocking 11:50. Shaken, I slipped my shoes on and hurried out of the house
to get to Memmingen Park. It was a fifteen minute walk to the park, and I
didn’t want to be late due to the mysterious aura of the meeting. Trying to
hurry it up, I decided to notch the speed up to a jog, knowing that if I tried to
sprint, I would get tired halfway to the park and then I would get even more
late. Checking my watch, I see it is 11:58 and I still have half a mile to go. It
was a dangerous bet, but it was my only choice. Desperately, I thought of
myself playing on the soccer field, trying to catch up with the opposition. He
was about to score, and I was the closest player to him, but was just past the
midfield line. The only obstacle, keeping the opposition from scoring, was
our goalie Manuel, but I knew he wouldn’t last long. I ran like the wind,
everything in sight passing by in a blur. The opposing player was about to
tap the ball in the net having gotten past Manuel. Just then, I slide tackled
the opposing player and made contact with the ball. The ball rolled out of
bounds, everybody cheering my name. Suddenly, the cheering faded and I

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was out of my daydream. Before I knew it I had reached Memmingen Park
just on time and I could sight Marco near a tree a few yards away. I walked

tiredly to him, greeting him cheerfully as I approached him.“Hey Marco!”
“Hey Mario.” Marco said in a serious voice. “Hurry up, we don’t have all
day.” This angered me, but I tried not to let it show as I picked up speed.
“You’re probably wondering why I called you here?” Marco began. “Yes,
there is no doubt that I am.” I nervously answered. “Well, let me answer
your question. I want to be the ultimate star on Borussia Dortmund. I know
that you and the world are thinking that we are the best duo ever, but to be
honest, I was just faking. I will try anything to get you out of Dortmund.” My
rage picked up more. “Try all you want.” I growled. With that, I walked away

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and back home. I tried not to worry about it, keeping it in my mind that
Marco didn’t have the power to get me off the team. My plan worked so
well that in a few days I was on the bench looking on my team as they
played Austria without any worry to be found. Just before the half I was
having a chat with Julian Draxler, a new sub I had just met today, when
cheers erupted from the crowd. I turned my head back to the game just in
time to see Marco saluting the crowd as the Austrian goalkeeper picked the
ball out of the net. Seconds later it was halftime. Coach Joachim was subbing
me in for Marco which gave me a sense of agitation as to how Marco would
react to me going in for him. The big moment came eventually, and instead
of shouting some insult at me, he reached out his hand to high five me. I
returned the gesture with a high five and then he gave a thumbs up and ran
to the bench and took a seat. Sometimes Marco made no sense whatsoever.

       I rushed onto the field and the second the referee blew the whistle, I
chased the ball from the Austrians. Five minutes later, my magic got a goal
for us. Jerome played a deep cross directed to me from our half. I ran
towards it scrambling to get there first before the Austrian defenders. It all
worked out perfectly as I controlled the approaching ball with the lace of my
foot. I dribbled in, ready to take a shot any minute now. Just as I lifted my
foot, I felt somebody sweep my legs from underneath me. I heard the
referee blow his whistle and direct his hands to the penalty spot. Mesut was
called up to take it and he nailed it into the top right corner. The Austrians
got one back five minutes later but we hung on for the win in Vienna,
Austria.

      When I woke up the next morning, I remembered that the Ann
Brommel concert was today so I made plans to invite Marco to hangout
forgetting all the events that had happened four days ago. I dialed his
number on the phone and waited for someone to pick up. Finally I heard

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Marco’s voice on the other side of the phone. “Hey Mario, what’s up” “Hey
Marco, Felix and Fabian are planning to go to a Ann Brommel concert
tonight. So do you want to come to my place to hangout while they’re
gone.” Like me, Marco did not understand the marvelousness of Ann
Brommel so the answer was sure to be a yes. A second later I was not to be
disappointed. “Okay, that would be great!” I ended the call and then started
lifting my weights. A few hours later Fabian came limping home from
practice. He looked very hurt, and looking at the time I see that his practice
is not even over. “Fabian, what happened?” I exclaimed. Grunting with pain,
instead of answering, Fabian beckoned for me to get some ice for him. As
soon as I got the ice for him, Fabian put it on. A few seconds later when it
looked like Fabian was all cooled down, I asked him to tell me his story. “I
was dribbling in practice towards goal when my teammate Thomas slide
tackled me from behind.” “So can I do anything to help you?” Fabian’s voice
came out deep and ominous. “Yes, you can.” I waited for the last part of
Fabian’s phrase. It couldn’t have been any worse. “Can you go to the Ann
Brommel concert with Felix for me?” Nobody in the whole entire world
could have imagined my feelings at the moment. I felt like fainting and my
head ached. Just before I dropped to the ground unconscious, I managed to
crazily mutter just one word. “Yes”

      That night after I had informed Marco about the change of plans, Felix
and I were in our limousine along with our butler going to the Ann Brommel
concert. I expected some of my teammates to be there as they were huge
fans of Ann Brommel. Sure enough, as we reached there, I sighted Thomas
talking to Philipp. Once Hans our butler parked the limousine I got out of the
car and approached Thomas and Philipp. “Hey Thomas, hey Philipp.” I said
greeting them. “Hey Mario, are you excited for the concert. Really I wasn’t,
but trying to be polite, I lied and said I was. Seconds later the concert
started. Ann Brommel had put too much makeup and her dress was very

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ugly. However, my teammates couldn’t stop looking at her. All I could do
was shake my head in disgust. It was all too revolting. Although Ann
Brommel’s appearance was horrible, her voice was quite marvelous. Ann
Brommel was in the middle of singing “This is me”, when a loud sound
erupted from the background. Thousands of heads turned back to look. I ran
towards the noise to check on the danger. There I saw somebody pointing a
gun at a little kid.Thinking quickly like I did on the soccer field I figured out
how to save this little kid. All I needed was an object that was kickable. I
tried to think what objects that were kickable and appeared at a singing
concert. The answer came fast as lightning. Using all the energy I had in my
                                         lungs, I screamed “Would somebody
                                         pass me an empty beer bottle please!”
                                         Somebody from the crowd tossed a
                                         green beer bottle in my direction.
                                         When it was a foot from hitting the
                                         ground I volleyed the bottle towards
                                         the gun. It soared through the air at a
                                         hundred miles per hour and made
                                         contact with the gun. The gun flew out
                                         of the thug’s hand and into someone
                                         elses. I looked closer and saw that it
                                         was Coach Joachim. He winked at me
                                         and then gave me a thumbs up. I then
                                         turned my head towards the crowd and
                                         gave them a salute. Next, the most
                                         unbelievable thing on Earth happened.
                                         Ann Brommel gave me the call me sign.
Shocked, I ran away from the concert not wanting to be noticed anymore.
Behind me, I could see Felix chasing after me. I didn’t care. I chose to lead
Felix to the limo where Hans was waiting and then we could go home. My

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plan worked perfectly and as soon as I got home I threw myself on the bed
and had the best sleep ever.

      The next day I decided to call Ann Brommel back. I looked up her
number on her official page and there her phone number was. 697 - 985 -
2345. I dialed the number in the phone and waited for a response on the
other side of the phone. Finally, it came. “Hello, who is this” came the voice
of Ann Brommel’s secretary. Picking my words carefully, I answered. “This is
Mario Gotze, I” Before I could finish, Ann Brommel’s secretary had
interrupted me. “Oh Mario Gotze, Ann Brommel has been wooing you ever
since last night. Shall I arrange a for you guys to meet on December 1st at
Motel Phantasie.” I did not understand what was the point of waiting two
months but I reluctantly agreed.

       A month later the team and I were in Ireland ready to play the
Republic of Ireland. However, before the game started, Marco pulled me
aside to tell me something. “Mesut is trying to get me in trouble.” Marco
said it so fast, I was confused. “Don’t you remember when I told you I
wanted to get you off Dortmund. That was actually Mesut.” I pondered for a
few seconds until it all came back to me. Of course it was Mesut. Marco had
agreed to hangout at my house without a second thought. I quickly formed a
plan to get Mesut in trouble. I would ask Mesut to come to the Motel
Phantasie on December 1st so I could get him in trouble in front of the
horrible and famous Ann Brommel. Seconds later, my mind was on the game
against Ireland. Ninety minutes later we won six to one.

      December 1st came faster than expected. I had already invited Mesut
and he had hesitantly agreed even with the mysterious aura behind my
meeting. When Hans and I reached Motel Phantasie I opened the door, said
bye to Hans and hesitantly entered the Motel. There I saw Ann Brommel

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and Mesut sitting. I greeted them and took a seat in one of the comfy chairs.
Suddenly I saw beauty in her. Before acknowledging Mesut, I sat down and
faced Ann Brommel. Her first words were more surprising than when Algeria
beat the Germany national soccer team in 1998. “I love you” were her
words. My response contained the same surprise. “I love you too.” I
responded shocking everybody in the room. We smooched and snuggled for
a long time and then turned to face Mesut. “Why have you called me here”
said Mesut sounding bored. “You know why” I growled angrily. Still, Mesut
remained blank. Disappointed, I told the story to Mesut. After I was done
telling the story, a nervous look had appeared on Mesut’s face. “C’mon tell
me. What did you do?” I ordered. When Mesut didn’t answer, I tried taking
a different tactic. “Tell me. Or I will tell Coach Joachim what you did.”
Finally, everything burst out of Mesut. “It all began when the assistant coach
of Real Madrid went to watch you play at the Westfalenstadion. He was
amazed by your skill and informed the Real Madrid staff on your skill. My
coach sent me to turn you against Marco incase something went wrong in
our plan. Obviously, I succeeded. Right now we are planning to get you on
Real Madrid.” Right after he finished speaking, a guilty look appeared on
Mesut’s face. Instead of thinking about it as an evil plot, I thought about it as
an offer to play at Real Madrid. Real Madrid had recently won La Liga and
were a favorite to win this years UEFA Champions League. After a while,
instead of scolding him for such horrible behavior, I told him to continue his
plans. Mesut looked shock at my reply. I could tell he had been waiting for
some harsh reply from me. He only barely managed to mutter a reply. “So,
can I leave?” “Of course you can” I replied. With that, Mesut delightfully left
the Motel. A few minutes later, I waved good bye to Ann, and then left the
Motel where Hans was waiting for me.

     Soon enough, I left Borussia Dortmund and transferred. Not to Real
Madrid but to Bayern Munich. Apparently the assistant coach of Real

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Madrid had moved to Bayern Munich and told Jurgen Klopp, the head of
Bayern Munich to purchase me. Jurgen Klopp succeeded as I was having
injury problems at that time and Dortmund were not as strict about me
transferring as they were when I first arrived at Dortmund. That year,
Bayern Munich won the UEFA Champions League against my former team.
Even though I didn’t play, I was part of the celebration.

       A year and six months later, we had qualified for the World Cup, and
the whole of the German national team were standing in the crowd waiting
for Coach Joachim to name the World Cup roster. First, he began naming the
goalkeepers. “Manuel Neuer, Roman Weidenfeller and Ron-Robert Zieler.”
Next he named the defenders. “ Erik Durm , Jerome Boateng , Kevin
Grosskreutz , Benedikt Howedes , Mats Hummels , Philipp Lahm, and Per
Mertesacker.” Then, he named all the players in my position, midfield. “Our
midfielders are, Julian Draxler, Matthias Ginter, Andre Hahn , Sami Khedira,
Toni Kroos, Thomas Müller, Mesut Ozil , Marco Reus, Bastian Schweinsteiger
and ….” Coach Joachim seemed to pause even though he didn’t. My heart
rate increased and I waited for him to name the last spot in the midfield
section. “Mario Gotze” Coach finished. I sighed in relief and everybody
clapped for all the midfielders who had been selected. He went on to name
that “Miroslav Klose, Andre Schurrle, and Lukas Podolski would be the
forwards. 2 months passed, and the whole World Cup Roster were in Coface
Arena, Mainz to play our last game before the World Cup against Armenia.
The game started out dull and boring. We were playing so terrible that the
Armenians were having better chances than us. If the crowd thought our
performance was poor so far, they were in for a surprise. A few minutes
before the break, an Armenian player received the ball from his keepers goal
kick and dribbled upfield. He played a through ball to a tall bearded player.
Marco set his eyes on the ball and raced toward it. It was nearly at his
opponents foot when he slid into the ball. The ball rolled out of bounce but

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Marco remained on the ground. The medical aids on our team hurried to
Marco and helped him limp out to the sidelines. Marco had evidently
sprained his ankle in the process of making the tackle. The whole team
frowned and worried about what would happen to our team without Marco.
A few minutes later, the referee blew his whistle and told us to resume
playing. It was halftime a minute later and Coach Joachim was giving us a
quick pep talk before he sent us back into the game. “I know we have lost
Marco, but we just have to play our game. He has been replaced with a
player who is just as capable as scoring goals as Marco. His name is Mesut as
you all know him.” Everybody sighed in relief. This lifted some gloom off of
the present event if not all of it. The whole team jogged out there fresh after
the break. Miroslav Klose stood on the midfield line next to Andre, hoping to
be the all time leading goal scorer of Germany with a goal today. The referee
blew the whistle and the second half began. Five minutes into the half, Lucas
dribbled the ball down the field to the corner kick flag. He slowed down the
ball and delivered a cross to Andre. Andre backheeled it past Armenian
goalie Roman Berezovsky and whizzed the ball into the goal. Fifteen minutes
after the first goal of the game, Andre’s goal was canceled out. My
dortmund teammate Henrikh Mkhitaryan got the ball, and showing some
delightful skill, dribbled the ball into the eighteen. Lucas became the villain
just after being the hero when he stuck out his leg hoping to poke the ball
away from Henrikh. He failed to do so and instead accidentally tripped
Henrikh. It was an obvious penalty, so Lucas didn’t even complain about the
call when it occurred. Henrikh converted the ball into the lower left corner
and the score was 1-1 just like that. Lucas reclaimed his hero role 2 minutes
later when he received a brilliant through ball from Miroslav just onside and
blasted the ball into the net. After that there was no stopping us. Sixty
seconds later it was 3-1 after Benedikt thighed his second international goal
in the back of the net. Miroslav became Germany’s all time leading scorer
when he chipped the ball over Roman Berezovsky for the goal. I got two for

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myself with eight minutes left in the game when I barely tapped the ball
past the Armenian goalie right before he could grab it from the turf. My
second came in stoppage time when Miroslav tapped the ball to me off a
rebound and I shot it in the net without a single touch to control the ball.
After that, the game was over and I could tell that the whole team was
optimistic about the 2014 FIFA World Cup.

      It came sooner than expected. The team boarded the first class suites
paid by the German government, all talking unable to be heard because of
the roar of the plane engine. We were on our way to Brazil to play in the
2014 FIFA World Cup. Ann was coming with me but had to ride a different
plane because the first class suites were reserved solely for us. We had been
to Brazil once before in 2011 to play a friendly match against the Brazilian
national football team. I remembered the game the best as that was when I
scored my very first international goal. Before the plane ascended, Coach
told everybody to get some rest because as soon as we reached Brazil, we
would take an hour to get settled in our hotel but then we would have to
get to practice after a long flight. Two days later, our first game against
Portugal would occur at 7:00 a.m. Our descent came faster than expected,
my comfy first class beds providing a comfortable sleep. The the plane
captain’s voice announcing the descent startled me, following with me
buckling my seatbelt. Soon we landed in the airport and got settled into the
hotels. Practice was grueling. The Brazilian weather was hot and humid and
we were sweating so much that it looked like we had wet our pants.
However, the practice paid off. Two days later, we were warming up for our
game against Portugal. I was delighted to be on the starting lineup and was
hoping to score some goals. We broke the deadlock not long after the game
started. Toni had found some open space and dribbled the ball onto the
Portuguese half. He played the ball to Thomas and Thomas played the ball
to me in the 6 yard box surrounded by 3 Portuguese players. I tried to take

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them on but felt a slight tugging at my shirt. I tried to keep going on but
eventually it was too hard and fell to the ground. The referee showed no
hesitation in directing his hand to the penalty spot. Thomas calmly
converted the penalty into the right corner of the net and it suddenly was 1-
0. We rushed back to our positions and we were all attempting to get
another one. Not long after, Toni delivered a delightful corner directed at
the far post where Mats was waiting. He jumped up and headed the ball
into the net past Portuguese goalie Paulo Beto. Thomas got another goal
right before the break when he deflected it off Paulo Beto’s glove into the
top right corner. Thomas completed his hat trick when he tapped in the
rebound from Mesut’s original shot. Ten minutes later, the game was over. I
was satisfied with my play and that night when we went back to the hotel
after some celebrating and showering, I fell onto the bed and had a great
sleep. Five days passed in a flash and before we knew it, it was time for our
next game against Ghana. Ghana had lost their first game to tourney
underdogs The United States. We were confident but not overconfident.
The first half was dull and had little chances. The second half contained
much more excitement. Five minutes into the second half, Thomas delivered
a cross to my forehead right in front of the goal. It bounced off my forehead
and then off my knee and into the goal. I ran to the left side of the field and
“kissed” the crowd with my hands. Three minutes later, the Ghanaians
equalized. A tall, muscular Ghanaian got the ball just outside the eighteen.
Instead of opting to shoot, he played a beautiful cross to the forehead of
another tall Ghanaian. He headed it past Manuel and it was 1-1 at the
Estadio Castelao Fortaleza. Then came the shocker. Lucas was caught ball
watching and a Ghanaian defender was allowed time to deliver a through
ball to Ghanaian star Asamoah Gyan. He curved the ball into the back of the
net and suddenly it was time for desperation. Not long after that, I was
subbed out for Miroslav. Miroslav had become the country’s all time leading
scorer, but still needed two goals to become the World Cup’s all time

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leading scorer. In the 71st minute he equalized two things. Toni delivered his
cross from the corner flag to the near post this time. Lucas flicked it to the
far post where Miroslav was waiting. He tapped the ball into the goal using
the sole of his boot. Over the loudspeaker I could hear the announcer
shouting with excitement. “Oh yes! Miroslav Klose has equalized Brazilian
Ronaldo’s record with a goal here in the Estadio Castelao Fortaleza. There
were no other goals to be scored and the game finished a draw. A win
versus the United States would give us a pass to the Round of 16. I was kept
on the bench most of the time versus the United States but eventually we
won with a wonderful goal from Thomas Muller in the 51st minute. Both
teams advanced and our next opponents were Group H underdogs Algeria.
It was predicted that the game would be a walk in the park for us, but that
was a very false prediction. Algeria had many chances and it even went into
overtime. We finally got a goal ninety seconds into overtime when Andre
backheeled Mesut’s cross into the right corner of the net. Next, it was
Mesut’s turn to score. It was nearly the end of the game when Mesut
chipped the ball over the Algerian keeper and into the net. The Algerians got
one back in stoppage time but that was not enough for them to advance.
Our next opponents were the French. The only goal of the game came when
Toni delivered a cross to Mats from his free kick and Mats headed the ball
onto the post, the ball then rebounding into the goal. Our semifinalist
opponents were supposed to be our hardest in the tournament so far. Were
they? No. I was benched for most of the game, replaced for Schalke 04
defender Julian Draxler. Julian didn’t have much of an impact, but it didn’t
really matter. We were leading 5-0 at the half with goals from Toni, Sami,
Thomas and a record breaking goal from Miroslav. The game finished 7-1,
Brazil avoiding their biggest defeat ever with a last second goal in stoppage
time. The next game was the most important one. It was the finals against
Argentina. The one I had hoped to play in for so long and now it was my
chance. Argentina had defeated the Netherlands with a spectacular display

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of defense, first in overtime when a Javier Mascherano tackle halted Arjen
Robben from scoring the winning goal and then two brilliant saves from
Sergio Romero in the shootout. Coach Joachim and the team were very
aware of what talent this Argentinian side had. It contained Lionel Messi,
considered one of the best players in the world at the time, and a stellar
striker who went by the name of Gonzalo Higuain. Two days before the
game against Argentina, Ann came to meet me in the hotel. We were
walking into the hotel lobby after a long day of practice when I sighted Ann
walking to the check in desk, probably looking for someone or something.
“Hey Ann” I called out. Ann looked behind her and a huge grin appeared on
her face as soon as she saw me. “Hey sweetie.” Before she approached me,
Ann called out to coach to ask if she could pull me aside for a moment.
Without a seconds thought Coach nodded. “What are you doing here Ann?”
I questioned. “I just wanted to see you before the finals.” I knew Ann
wouldn’t pull me aside when I was with my team for something like that.
“C’mon, tell me Ann. It wouldn’t be right for you to interrupt my team time
and then not tell me what you wanted to tell me.” “I don’t want to tell you
because of how you’re going to react. But your dad told me to tell you. So I
have to.” She hesitated for a moment and then rapidly got it out of her
mouth. “Your dad had a heart attack last night.” I gasped in shock. “I have to
go back to Germany now. I’ll go to the airport to check when is the soonest
flight.” Ann held my hand before I could do anything. “No” she strictly said.
“That’s exactly what I was worried about. It was your dad who told me to
tell you this. First you win the FIFA World Cup. Then you can go to Germany
and see your dad.” I tried to complain but came to no prevail. Eventually I
rejoined my team in Coach Joachim’s room where he was giving a
motivational talk to the rest of the guys. When Coach saw me come in, he
didn’t even stop talking and just gestured for me to take a seat. Eventually I
caught on. Coach was informing us on the danger of the Argentinian side. He
wanted us to stay confident, but not be overconfident. At the end, we did

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our cheer and retreated to our own rooms. Two days passed rapidly. The
whole team arrived an hour early to do warm ups. After we completed our
regular shooting and passing drills Coach Joachim called us to the sidelines
to have one last talk. He put confidence in us in his same old regular ways.
However, before he named the starting lineup he had one last surprise for
us. Coach Joachim fished in his pocket until his hands rested on something
smooth and soft. Coach Joachim held it up so everybody could see. It was a
humongous wad of bills. “See this guys. This is for whoever scores the
winning goal.” After everybody processed that information, the starting
lineup consisting of Manuel, Benedikt, Mats, Mesut, Miroslav, Thomas,
Philipp, Toni, Jerome, and Christoph, but not me, ran onto the Estadio do
Maracana where the Argentinians were waiting to begin the coin toss.
Philipp won the coin toss and opted to have the kickoff in the second half.
The game was very full of chances for both sides. The closest chance of the
half came when Toni Kroos misjudged a header and instead of heading the
ball forward, headed it backwards where Gonzalo Higuain was waiting.
Higuain misfired it and instead the ball went wide. In the 30th minute
Gonzalo Higuain tapped the ball into the net off a Lionel Messi cross but it
was ruled offsides. Our best chance came right before the break when Lucas
went for the diving header to convert on a corner kick by Toni but it was off
target and instead hit the post. The second half didn’t have as many chances
and I was hoping to go in. Right after Lionel Messi forced Manuel to a diving
save Coach Joachim told me to put my jersey on. After I got my jersey on,
Coach Joachim pulled me aside for a quick moment before he sent me on.
“Mario, you can do it. I know you can do it. Show the world you are better
than Messi and can decide the World Cup.” After that, Coach Joachim sent
me on for Miroslav who received a standing ovation for his record breaking
stats. Two minutes later, this World Cup finals match was going into
overtime for the third time in a row. Philipp and Joachim had a talk with us
simply to motivate us but it served it’s purpose. When it was time for all of

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us to go on the field we were on our toes, and there was no sign up the
tiredness there was supposed be after playing 90 minutes on a soccer field.
The referee blew the whistle and overtime began. Argentina had the first
chance of the game. Jose Palacio received a cross in the eighteen yard box
from his teammate Ezequiel Garay all the way from his own half. However,
Palacio did not get a proper first touch and Manuel was able to get a hand
on the ball. There were no more chances before the break and if there was
no fatigue fifteen minutes before, there was now. Although we had one
more sub left, Coach decided to keep the same lineup and sent us on the
field. I stood on the midfield line next to Andre, a Brazuca, the official ball of
the 2014 FIFA World Cup at my feet. The referee blew the whistle and
suddenly I was in action mode. Eight minutes later I was tired and there
were still seven minutes to go. Mats took a throw in from our half and
played it off to Andre. Andre tapped it to me and made an overlapping run
around me. I then gave it back to Andre using the inside of my foot. Next, I
looked for ways to make myself open to Andre. I settled my eyes in the front
of the goal. I raced past the halfway line into the eighteen yard box, and into
the six yard box where Andre’s cross came through. I controlled the ball with
my chest, and leaving no chance for Argentina goalie Sergio Romero to save
it, I whizzed the ball into the right corner of the net. Everywhere around me,
cheers erupted. Some were crying. Some in joy and some in despair. Right
now I didn’t care for the feelings of others. I cared that I had scored in the
World Cup finals and maybe even had helped my team win it. I ran around
with my teammates, pumping my fist in the air. Seven minutes later, the
final whistle blew. Ann came down from the stadium to celebrate with me
even though security guards had tried to stop her. After they saw what she
was trying to do, they halted their attempts to stop her. I however, didn’t
share her mood of celebration with her. “C’mon, let’s go to see how my
dad’s doing.” I urged. Instead of coming with me, Ann stayed there calm.
“It’s fine. Apparently your dad was suffering from some mental worry about

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how you would do in the World Cup and not a heart attack. So when he saw
you score the goal he suddenly became all fine.” I grinned with pleasure and
after I was done celebrating with Ann, I went to Coach Joachim to thank him

for all the work he had done. “Thank you for all you’ve done Coach Joachim.
This has been one of the best moments in my life.” But Coach stayed
humble despite my efforts to congratulate him. “Ohh, you don’t need to
thank me!” He exclaimed. “I should be thanking you. And by the way, call
me Jo.” The grin appearing on his face. “Uggh” I responded, dropping to the
ground. Despite my expressions of annoyance, I was the happiest man on
earth at the moment. I was Super Mario.

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About the Author

Anuj Khemka is a nine year old who lives in Arlington, Virginia with his
parents and his older brother. He likes to play soccer, read, and write. His
favorite food his chicken. Anuj Khemka has written other short stories such
as the “Four Brothers”, “Legend of the Deciduous Trees”, “Finished”, and
“Lost” but has not published them.

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