Bounce-Personal Narrative

Day in, and day out, I was perfecting my performance, therefore Coach Dawn did not have to hesitate on choosing me to be on the team. When it was time for me to show off my skills I was beyond confident. We began running drills, I missed a few serves, but I was still amped up to do more. Less than seven minutes into our practice she had me gather all the volleyballs and put them in the cart.

I was a little guy so I just stood there on the court and shot the ball.

When the crowd inspired me to play on I did just that, and guarded like my life depended on it and stole the ball,I zoomed down the court with the ball hitting

We had to get the ball in, and someone had to make a shot. I was so nervous in the timeout huddle. I kept looking up at the red numbers on the scoreboard. Breathe, just breathe. Coach had written out a whole play for us. We were going to get the ball into Jocelyn at half court and she was going to dribble in and find a shot or pass to me or Ellie on the wings. I was hoping Jocelyn wouldn’t pass to me. It was 4th grade and I wasn’t very good. The referee’s blew their whistles once, then twice, commanding us to take the court. Neither team was ready to see who would be on top when the buzzer would finally go off. As both teams were getting ready to take the court, the ref set the ball on the line and began counting to five. We threw the whole

When I step foot onto the court and take my position, I get ready for anything that comes at me. I take my stance, moving side to side as I see the server’s arm float up, tossing the ball high into the air, their racquet gradually moves behind to scratch their back, and in the blink of an eye they strike. I quickly move to position my body for the perfect shot. The ball comes flying in, and my racquet ready for the ball. It hits the ground and as soon as I see a perfect time it’s my turn to strike. I then have so many other thoughts in my head that causes myself to focus my concentration somewhere else and forget what I was aiming for. The ball bounces of off my racquet and it heads straight for the net. I am frustrated, saying words I don’t normally say, and wanting to hit the ground with my racquet. There are other times when I feel vulnerable because of my injury. Once they see my braced leg, they soon find out that it’s a struggle for me to run. Even with serves, at practices they seem perfectly fine but once someone stands on the other side it feels intimidating. Having all these thoughts run through my head. “What if she can return it?” “What if it doesn’t make it in?” “Will it hit the net?” I tense up, and double fault my serve, which isn’t like me. However, they can also bring out the best in me, for short periods of time. Maybe a little practice with

My team took the field with high energy. Coming off of an injury and weeks of being sick, I was unable to be a starter that game. I tried my best to keep my spirits high as I cheered from the bench. The whistle blew, and the game began to unfold. I watched as

The crowd is cheering, the pressure, the weight of my team on my shoulders I take three dribbles and then I spring up and take a shot and. It was a December night on the day of the Oley Championship Basketball Game, against Oley. After the tip off, the game was in Oley’s hands. They played great defense, made a lot of their shots, but our team just played horribly and they were up by 16 points. At the end of the third the score was around 26-10 Oley, but in my head the game was not over yet because we still had 8 minutes to come back, and I always want to win. Nothing really happened in the first 4 minutes, but in the last 2 minutes I contributed with an assist and 5 points including a layup and a three.

Coach called the first few players that were competing against the New Jersey players. He called me up to the mat first. My opponent walked up in front of me. Adrenaline rushed through my body, half shivering from the intensity. The coach had to blow the whistle three times for the game to start. One, two, and three. As soon has he blew that third whistle I was slammed to the ground! He called me back up for the second round. I wasn't giving up now. I could hear strangers I didn't know cheering me on, and my Dad cheering making the biggest fool out of himself. Once again he blew the whistle three times, and I charged my opponent head-faced right on the ground penetrating his neck with my hand! That was my play in this tournament, although I tied my opponent. There were around 10-15 players left to compete for the state tournament to end.

Right before my game, I told my mom that my stomach was feeling queasy. She told me she would take me to the hospital right away but I told her to take me after my game. That was the worst decision ever. During my game, my stomach kept on churning like a pot of butter. The coach wanted me in most of the game. I could barely even run or shoot the basketball. I could not understand why my coach could not see this. “Coach, can I just sit and watch the game Now I really felt like throwing up.

While I was in the car going to the game, I was thinking of what I should do when I get a hold of the ball. My mom has always wanted me to at least make one goal for the whole season, but I kept arguing with myself that I was not going to be able to do it. I finally arrive at the field and suddenly start sweating.

I get back to the line to serve and the entire spacious and packed gym went silent. No one said a thing and I could hear myself shake. I bounced the ball and then pounded it into the floor for a little warm up before I serve and the sound echoed off the gym walls. All i had to do was get the ball over the net to give us a chance to play defense against Wheaton. The ref blew the old speaky whistle to serve and i looked at the net and felt as if it kept getting further and further away. I tossed the ball up and swung at it. Everyone watched as the ball caught the top of the net and fell to the floor. On our side. I immediately fell to my knees on the court. The game was finished with the score of 23-25. Wheaton

“1,2,3 lady mariners.” We yelled as running on to the court, before the game started we showed armada our confidence. A few minutes later we started the game, I really wanted to play as hard as I can and I knew that I could if I tried. Suddenly I got the ball and went for the shot, but I saw how it hit the ground with no touch of the net. ( i knew i needed more courage)

I’m still filled with nerves until the leather ball glides against the tips on my fingers as I drive through the lane. The rush gives me confidence for the minutes to come. By the time I realize it, it’s already half time and we’re up by six points. The only problem is I have 3 fouls. A lot runs through my mind as I step back onto the court. My team needs me I can’t let them down. Until suddenly I feel her hot sweaty skin against mine and theirs foul four.

Everyone was watching the first volleyball game. I looked around to see what the older girls were doing. They were practicing with each other. So, I decided to practice on one of the walls. I bounced the ball of the wall and put my hands together like my sister told me but the ball didn’t reach. So I tried again and again but it still wasn’t working. Finally the game was over and i looked at my sister and her friends practicing. So, i asked if i could try to have a pass with them. They said sure. So, they threw the ball to me and after i hit it, it didn’t go very far. They helped me with my hand position and the thing i wasn’t doing was bending my knees. So, i did that and it worked. Then, we started setting. What they told me was” You have to have your fingers very stiff”. Setting to me was the easiest one to me. Then we started serving. There was underhand and overhand. I was better at underhand because i didn’t have enough strength.

On my first day of practice, I was nervous. I thought everyone was going to be better than me. We practiced on our serving, bumping, and setting and I made some friends on my team. They were a little more experienced than I was but they