I reel and stagger, and forget where I am.

I am being swept along in a torrent; the waters with a roar rush past me and over me.

Every moment I get nearer and nearer the fatal edge--I am at it--I hang a moment on the brink, and then-- "Down!" shouts a voice close at my ear, and there is such a noise of cheering and rejoicing that I sit up and rub my eyes like one waking bewildered from a strange dream.
Then I find out what has happened.

When I charged at the Craven captain the shock sent me back staggering into the very arms of Wright and our forwards, who were close at my heels, and who then, in a splendid and irresistible rush, carried me and the ball and the half of the other side along with them right behind the enemy's goal-line, where we fall _en masse_ to the earth--I, with the ball under me, being at the bottom.
Even if I had been hurt--which I was not--there was no time to be wasted on condolences or congratulations.

The time-keeper held his watch in his hand, and our goal must be kicked at once, if it was to be kicked at all.