When I about to enter high school, my family moved to Colorado. I signed up for a recreational soccer league. In our first game, I was playing striker, and in first minute or two, I took a cross, controlled it, and blasted it into the goal. I went back to the halfway line for the ensuing kickoff. Being unadjusted to the atmosphere in Colorado, I had to crack my knuckles.
So there I was. In my first touch of the ball for my new team, I'd scored a goal. And I was sitting at the halfway mark, looking nonchalant, cracking my knuckles, looking for all the world like it was nothing, there was plenty more to come.
I will never be that cool again.