Club Championship-Personal Narrative

I had tried out for the High School football team but unfortunately was cut. I worked hard over the summer and even passed on the family vacation to North Carolina to attend football conditioning at the school. Even with all of my effort put towards running and weightlifting I was still cut. That however did not stop me from playing the sport I love. I had heard of a local pigskin football league that allowed any teen my age to play. I immediately conversed with my parents and received their permission to sign up.

On February 28, 2005, I experienced one of the most exciting events that anyone could ever experience – winning a State Championship. The day my soccer team made history is a day I’ll never forget. However it is not just that day we won the title, but the whole experience of the preceding season that got us there. From start to finish, my team’s 2004-2005 season taught me that the platitude is true. You can do anything you set your mind to.

Marsden sat down with his swing coach to set up his objectives for his golf career. He realized he had a lot of work to do to reach that goal of winning a Green Jacket. Marsden’s father Jeff, had bought him a membership at Mattaponi Springs, where he would spend countless hours on the range and around the greens. Dyson had a routine he would do every day; he would hit eight perfect shots with each club in his bag. The young man then would move on to the chipping surface, he hit fifty perfect shots that had to land within three feet of the pin. Whenever he had nothing to do, he would be on the range practicing, if he didn’t answer the phone and you needed him he was at the range working. He would put in dedication into his golf game twenty four seven.

Did the golfing gods continue to have it out for me? Were they still pissed because I abandoned the game in spite of having the talent to hit a high fade or low draw at will with one iron, but lacked the balls to stare down the abyss at the end of a three-foot putt? Had they really bothered to chase me all the way from the lush tropical parkland courses of my native Florida to the southern edge of the Sahara desert in order to extract their justice? Like when other things that had happened to me since arriving in Africa, it was not the first time I had wondered if I was not enduring some divine retribution.

The sand traps, one about 200 yards on the left side of the fairway and the other another 50 yards ahead of it at the end of the fairway before it doglegs to the left. It's pearly white colored rocks glisten in the warm spring sun. Its narrow, extremely narrow, only about a 30 yard wide fairway, and even more narrow opening to the fairway from the tips. The hazard to the right is once again dense and misleading for behind the majestic tree line there immediately lies a treacherous creek like the sirens Odysseus encounters in Odyssey on his way home for they were beautiful yet scary because they knew it lured sailors to their death. Now everything accounted for, the plan was now set to take the safe approach into this gusty tight par 4. Firmly and confidently I grasp the smooth surface of my 3 wood shaft, yanking in from my patriotic colored Callaway golf bag. I gradually move my hands up the club to its stiff rubber grip, taking long deep breaths, focusing in and getting into a state of mind where u just forget every thought you have in ur mind and you enter a state of near blissful

Some people just think softball is as simple as someone swinging a stick, hitting a ball, and trying to get back to where they started. They don’t see what softball really means to someone like me. Someone who has dedicated their life just to be able to play on that field at a certain level. Someone who wants to go to college and play the sport that they love. Well, I play softball because of the love I have for the sport.

The first day of this event was great. I shot one over par, seventy three, and was in the top twenty five of the tournament. I was confident in my swing and my game throughout the slightly breezy day. Over the course of the round, I had at least 5 different college coaches watching me play. Being watched by college coaches on any golf course is nerve-wracking, but being watched on one of the best courses in the country made me extremely nervous. I told myself throughout the day to just take a deep breath and focus on my game because that is the only thing that I am able to control.

Looking back on my three previous years playing for Edmond Memorial’s golf team, I realize how great I could have become. This is only because I decided to play safe golf. Hahn warns us of this in the story by saying, “we long for peace and security” (Hahn 91). As the famous quote states, “you miss one-hundred percent of the shots you do not take” (Wayne Gretzky). When I am near a creek or hazard on the golf course I imagine all the bad shots that could occur. This then leads me to hit one of those bad shots, whereas if I had imagined all the good shots I would have performed. Anyone who has golfed before is well aware that golf is more so mental game than a physical game; coincidently similar to life itself. Life and golf present us with two options, “we can recognize and embrace [fear] or act out of [fear]” (Hahn

I was walking towards the seventeenth hole of the Deep Cliff golf course, listening the rattle of the clubs on my back. My mouth dry of thirst from the pack of trail mix I had ate. I looked down at my scorecard and realized that I did not do as fortunate as I thought. My feet were aching and my arms were sore. I arrived at the seventeenth tee box after what felt like ages. I scanned the sign next to a decrepit bench. It read that the flag was one hundred seventy yards away. I dug deep into my pocket and pulled out a three inch tee and a golf ball. I teed up the ball, eyeing the flag in the distance. Little did I know, that the proudest moment of my life was waiting for me one hundred seventy yards away.

Thankfully, an older man who was warming up before his game saw me struggling. He came up to me and asked me if I wanted a few pointers. Slightly shocked, I accepted his offer. Over from the man’s golf cart, his partner yelled at him to hurry up and stop wasting time. However, the man signaled his partner to wait. He said to me, “Well first, your feet aren’t quite lined up with the ball.” I adjusted my feet to his liking. “Next, keep your left arm straight all the way throughout your swing. Lastly, just keep your eye on the ball. You’re looking up, and you aren’t hitting the ball in the right spot.” I lined up my feet, took my arms back, focused my eyes on the ball, and “POCK!” I looked up to see my ball soaring through the air and almost hitting the fence 100 yards away! I looked over at the kind gentleman, smiling. He smiled and raised his eyebrows. “Let’s see if you can do that again.” I did exactly what he told me to do, and sure enough, the ball soared. We practiced for

I’m all nerves as I anxiously wait for my turn to take the first tee at the most consequential day of golf of my life. I look to my side and see my playing partners. All of them having already had big success in the game. I am very aware that each of the three guys have been in more situations like this than me and this causes stress and tension to engulf me.

As the 18th hole rolled around, Billy had about an eight foot putt to make. I was

Since the age of four, when I was barely old enough to swing a putter, I have loved the game of golf. My dad, passing his love of the game down to me, would take me out every Sunday to Woods Edge Golf Course in Edgewood; he taught me the ins and outs and the dos and don’ts of the sport. One of the earliest memories I have of these trips to Woods Edge is being a mere couple of inches from driving the cart into a pond while dad was teeing off; this would definitely be considered a don’t in the world of golf. I received my first set of clubs for Christmas when I was eight and a year later, a pass to Pin Oak. Boy was I thrilled. I began to golf by myself and learn my own lessons through my experiences on the course. But as I grew as a golfer on my own, my dad was still there tweaking my swing in the back yard and taking trips to Edgewood with me. My dad is a big reason why I have a passion for the game of golf.

Many people take up Golf thinking that it is easy, after all, how hard can it be to hit a little white ball with a stick? This thinking evaporates the first time they step onto a driving range and attempt to hit that little white ball. Golf is not easy by any stretch of the imagination. My experience with golf began in May of 2005 when friends came to stay with us; my wife informed me that I would have to take Roy, her friend’s husband Golfing. I had not been to a driving range (since I was in my teens) and I had never played golf on a course before. It was quite an experience; the weather was cold, rainy and nasty the three times we played while they where here, the game hooked me badly, even with the bad shots and the nasty weather.

There stood the final score 27-21, Vikings have done it, they are going to the Championship, again.Steelers stood quiet on the sideline while their opposing team were jumping up and down all across the field yelling and screaming and hugging each other in joy.Then you had my team, the now beaten Steelers who had just blew their Championship chance all because of me. I was only a sixth grader then and I was only playing in a little league,but felt terrible not in the mad way like an angry bull charging a fire red cape but disappointed like as if you had a chance to save the world and you decided to stay watch TV. As I was presented with a third place medal I wondered if I even deserved it had I not of fumbled the ball I would have a cheering team and a golden trophy in my hand but no, I had a bronze medal hanging from my neck.So from that day forth I decided I wasnt ever going to stop playing football and practicing football until my body couldn’t take it anymore.