I am John, 12 years old. I study in the seventh grade of my school, and for several years now, I have been dedicating all my free time to football.Whether it's summer or winter, I always feel happy when we organize a small training session with our team—dribbling the ball, passing it, scoring goals. But my love and interest have always been focused on the position of the goalkeeper.
The goalkeeper is the team's last line of defense—covering the entire space from zero to the penalty box. His job is to anticipate the intentions of the attackers, move in time, and block their low and powerful shots either with a soft body save or a strong dive. A goalkeeper must not only be physically but also mentally strong and determined.While everyone else is immersed in passes and the width of the field, he stays focused, observing every detail—his defenders' communication, the positions of the opponents, and any changes in the tempo of the game.
My first experiences as a goalkeeper were more like defending than goalkeeping—standing in front of a broken goalpost with my friends on cold winter mornings.I didn't understand why I was always the one given the role of the "last barrier," but soon, I began to feel a sense of responsibility. Any mistake could expose a weakness in our team.Going through those fears, I learned how to tape my fingers properly, improve my positioning, and individually analyze highlights of professional matches—searching for ways to correct my mistakes.
My first real experience in goalkeeping happened by accident. One winter day, when we had gone to play ball, my friends said:— "John, you stand around a lot—why don't you be the goalkeeper?"Without thinking, I agreed. The ground was cold, my fingers were bare, and the wind hit my face directly, while the ball flew toward me. But in that very moment—when I caught my first real shot—something changed in my heart. I realized: this is where I belong.
From that day on, I began to take things more seriously. There weren't many opportunities to train in our village, so I created them myself.I would use a piece of glass as a mirror to watch my stance, made gloves out of paper, and tried to mimic the movements of professional goalkeepers. I watched tournament videos closely, observing how they stood, how they reacted to the ball.
At first, no one took me seriously. I was often mocked, and they'd say:— "You're not catching the ball—the ball is hitting you!"But I stayed silent—not because I was scared, but because a voice inside me kept saying: One day, you'll show them who you really are.
I want to tell the story of my journey. As a boy from the village of Sornarele, where football was just beginning to take root, where no one believed in me. But now, the time has come to open the pages of that story.I am John Vermogh. And this is my story.
4o