I stood out on the verdant, green field with a lacrosse stick in hand thinking of how this game would pan out.  My heart, pounding, like a time bomb ticking, awaiting the last 5 minutes until the game starts.  As I stood there I felt the radiant sun beaming on my pale forehead that would soon be red.  In a way the warmth was a comfort reminding me that the rush of adrenaline is what I love most about the game. 
I look at the clock ticking down, 3...2...1...BUZZZZ!  I walk onto the field with a mind, fully determined to get the ball.  I put one foot on the white, spray-painted line and the other back behind me, in a running stance.  I hear the whistle and I take off. 
Silence covers the field when the ref blows her whistle to announce a foul with 15 seconds left on the clock and a tie.  Next goal wins the game and both teams knew it.  Breathing intensified, faces panicked, and the crowd on their feet screaming. 
I could feel the beads of sweat rolling down the sides of my face as the ref puts the ball in my stick.  I hear the second whistle blow and take off.  Unable to feel my legs i keep going knowing there's only five seconds on the clock.  I have no room to shoot so I look around to pass the ball with three seconds left.   I pass as she cuts to the goal, 3...she catches it...2...she shoots...1...she scores...BUZZZZ...we win the game!
After the game, ball in hand, I stand out on the now torn up field and think to myself, I got the ball.