One Shot


You’re a Bull. You’ve been in isolation for a long time, you’ve even lost track of how long. You’ve been preparing for one game. You don’t know when it’s happening. Where you are is stripped off all sorts of stimulation. Only a thin ray of sunlight goes in a small crack in the wall. You hear nothing except for squeals of mice running around – and your occasional sighs. Somebody, a human – and you know it’s the same human – comes in to feed you. You don’t see their face. You don’t know how their voice sounds like.

One day it happens. You’re called. The gates are open. An overwhelming world of sounds, sights, and smells bombard you. A huge crowd is gathered around an open field in front of you.

Like a thunder, you find your target amidst this sea of chaos. Off you go towards it.

If you are this bull and you only have one shot in life, if you are only to play one game, and if this game is the only thing you will remember about your life – What would you do? What kind of target would you want to hit? What kind of equal opponent would you come face to face with? What kind of mark would you want to make? What kind of performance would you want to play? What kind of player would you want to be?