The master watched the soccer game from the sidelines. He had learned to walk and kick a ball at the same time. He was a capable midfielder in his prime. He understood the art of sharing the ball. Offensive players wanted him on their team because he evenly distributed the ball and had an innate skill to make the perfect pass at the most opportune moment.
In his youth nobody electrified the crowd like The Executioner. He was a swift athlete who could dribble and shoot with both feet. He earned his nickname because he never pardoned a goalie by squandering a scoring chance.
It had been several months since the master had seen The Executioner. He was old and hobbled by age, but he never failed to take his evening walk even though each step he took hardly evoked the legend he once was.
"Don't you miss those days, Executioner, when nobody was your equal on the pitch?" the master asked his enfeebled idol after crossing his path by chance.
"I have been inspired by challenges since I was a child," answered the fabled star with a wry smile. "And nothing inspires me more than my daily stroll. I have never been more excited because my saunter through our city's streets is the greatest challenge of my life.
"I have never faced a task that required a greater energy and a sharper focus than this one," he continued. "When I reach my humble abode which is your abode, I feel more elated with my accomplishment than if I had score ten goals in a match."
The master nodded his head in awe. The supreme master had spoken.
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