In my long and lustrious soccer career there are only two goals I've scored which have cemented themselves in my memory. They both happenend in my early years. Somewhere when I was 10-11. The second one was not one to be really proud of. It was one of those moments when everybody was in the penalty area. The ball was put in from the side and it just ended up right in front of me. I still see myself analyzing the situation and concluding that if I move my right foot forward I most likely would score. With one of the softest touches possible the ball went hairingly slow over the line. Just out of reach of the grappling defense. My team mates were yelling: 'nice goal, but next time wack it.' The fact that I made that conscious decision to hit it is the reason I remember it.
The first one was much more dramatic. It was one of those games where although we were by far the better team the ball just refused to go in. The goal-keeper is magnificent. My team hit the pole twice. Its one of those hot days and my team is slowly getting discouraged. Late in the game after another attack the ball ends up outside the penalty box quite close to the line and clearly the goal keeper has plenty of time to pick it up. My role until this moment in time which be in retrospect was the decisive move of the game had been minimal. I don't think I did anything good with the ball the whole afternoon. Typical. My thinking was simple I would just see if I could stress the keeper in handing over the ball to someone else in my team. I remember approaching the keeper. We kinda started clowning around. Before I knew how it happened I found myself in the situation that I had the ball, the goal was right in front of me and the goalkeeper behind me. I scored and we won the game 1-0.
It looked like the following video:
In my case the ball didn't cross the back line before I scored.