Descriptive Essay About Football

Pulling in the gravel parking lot, I can already see spectators set up around the fields. As we walk towards our team, I see girls ripping through their bags to find a lost shin guard sleeve or asking a teammate for an extra hair elastic. After arranging my bag underneath me to save my shorts from the damp dew clinging to the grass, I start getting ready. I jump up for warm-up exercises, my sleepy eyes clearing. Once the referee signals the end of warm-ups, our team huddles together for the pregame speech. Positions are delegated, the starting eleven step onto the field, and the whistle blows.

One lovely afternoon I was at my indoor soccer game. I was in an indoor league with some of my friends and we were tearing every team we played. That day we were going to play against an academy team, which have very good players.I had arrived about two minutes before the game. I was pretty late because I had gone to go eat before with my brother. So because of that I didn’t start and I wasn’t warmed up either. Nathan, my coach was like “Hey man did you go sew your clothes?,” in a jokingly was because I was late. The game had begun now and it was already intense. It was back to back If I do say so. The first half was an exciting one as it was all tied up two to two. I had played about half of the half. Now came the second half, and later on I went on the pitch. Some kid and I jumped up into the air to win the ball. We both did, and when I fell down, I guess I landed on my hand the wrong way. I felt a sudden pain on my hand. My wrist was all jacked up. It was horrendous as I looked down at my hair in shock as It looked like the top of mountains.I couldn’t feel my hand, It hurt quite a lot when i attempted to move it. My teammates, the opponents, my coach, the referee, and my brother all gathered around me to see what had happened. I wasn’t crying or anything but I sure wanted to. Actually I really did haha. My brother questioned “ oh dang man, you good?,” and well I just looked at him in pain, I didn’t know what to say. When the ambulance arrived at the

I know this may sound cliche or super basic and that is fine, but the topic of this essay is soccer. Soccer is a game played all over the country by all different kinds of people. It is the world’s game. This game includes a ball, two goals, and eleven players. Those are the facts but there is so much more to it than that. You need passion, drive, competitiveness, and most of all, love. This game triggers all of these things in me and that is the reason why I play it.

Plush green turf enclosed by glimmering yellow lines begs to be torn up by the spikes of cleats. Two large nets with huge white mesh and glistening white frames await the impact of a precious white and black sphere. Step onto this field and all worries vanish away and empowerment emerges. Just a ball, a uniform and a team waiting to show the opponents what soccer is all about. The shining lights and boisterous crowd create a grand atmosphere as fans await for the teams to perform; almost like it is their job. The roar of the crowd helps numb the sting from the brisk fall air. All of a sudden, you hear your name echo through the stands as you run to give the players and coaches’ a gesture of camaraderie and encouragement. Just being in this moment gives you goose bumps. The excitement of the atmosphere consumes me and the rush of adrenaline makes me invincible where nothing can stop me. As I compete alongside your teammates, a feeling of unity begins to emerge. I no longer see these people as just teammates; I see them as brothers, and I know that they have my back no matter what.

Nothing was going well: the cool breeze caused us to “spray the ball” over the fence, the obnoxious football players frightened me with their persistent cry for help, the tennis balls’ freshness and pristine presence quickly vanished. As I glanced over, I saw a slender body, with speckles of gray bellowing at us, slowly trotting over with a blank expression. I was thinking, “Aw man, he’s gonna come over here and yell at us or tell us the same old “give me 110%” or “stay focused.’” A Northwestern graduate (wise beyond his years) , a basketball and tennis player (athletically gifted) , our coach’s words enchanted us with delight and captivated our attention. With a grin on his pale pink face and a sparkle in his glimmering eyes, he let out an optimistic sigh while saying, “You guys just gotta battle. I don’t care about the score anymore. Just gotta love the battle no matter what

The late nights, under the lights, is such an amazing experience that I will never forget. So many different and exciting things happen on the soccer field. Through four years of playing, there were three different coaches, so many different players, two conference titles, one sectional championship, and so many records were broken. It is an amazing experience and if I could just have one more game with each of them, I would take it back in a heartbeat. The soccer field has a lot of history, personal value, and cultural significance to it. The high school soccer field is a cultural artifact, and it shows how teams work together, how some step up and become leaders, and how players leave a legacy.

Last night I made the drive to Union Local high school to watch my first game, that featured Wier, West Virginia and the Union Local Jets. The stadium was very nice, with the only complaint being three bucks to park.

The game started and the other team, Hillman College, had huge guys that towered over Jonathan and his team. He was nervous. “HIKE!” It had started. Jonathan had the ball he tossed it to Richard, who ran several yards before getting tackled. It was 2nd down. Jonathan saw Jack was open so he threw the ball. Jack seemed as he was going to catch it until a small, fast kid came running in for an interception. The kid ran the whole field for a touchdown.

Uh, it was a warm day, but... I live in san diego what was I to expect? Today we were going to start our new soccer unit in PE, and I was thrilled to do soccer at school. I already played club soccer and we were on break. I never would've thought something could go wrong, but their are always firsts.

For the past five years, I have worked as a soccer referee, and the experience has been very valuable. I began refereeing at the age of twelve, primarily as a way to earn a little extra money to buy video games. Initially, I started to referee recreational games for younger age groups at the local soccer park. However, as my referee career began to blossom, I was invited to referee tournaments throughout Georgia. Fast forward to today, I regularly travel to referee high-level tournaments in Alabama, Tennessee, Florida, and North Carolina. What had started simply as a part-term job has grown into something I plan to continue long into the future.

When I was a child, I started to love soccer and all I wanted to do was playing it. I loved soccer like girls love woman accessory such as lipstick, cream. I played every match with my passion and I took that as a joy, an important part in my life. However, there was a match which I would remember for the rest of my life. It happened 9 months ago but it feels as if it was yesterday.

Swimming, a sport like no other, where you train twice a day, each day, all year. A sport where there is no quitting, no backing down, no losing without a fight. Through hours of hard work, discipline, and plenty of times I’ve failed and gotten back up again, I have learned to not quit, and my team will not quit fighting for our pool, for our swim family, and for our second home.

I silently watched my neighborhood go about through the window as I sat in the car, tapping my shoes together impatiently. I was going to my first soccer game ever!

It was my first soccer game for my new club, and i was as nervous as if it was the first day of school. When I was younger I played soccer for many different organizations. The first organization that I played for was a church league called Upward, I played for this organization for about three years. Once I had grown out of playing there, I moved to to play at Concord Youth Soccer League. This was still not very competitive, compared to the team that I play for now. Once I turned 10 years old I finally moved to a club team. Playing for a club was a completely different environment. There were many more people and much more competitive. Playing my first game for Michiana Echo was very different from when I played for Upward or Concord. The field was much bigger, there was many more people on the field, and the rules were different. Our first game was at our home field, MIchiana Echo fields. With all these new experiences with people and soccer this is one of my memories I will never forget.

Every now and then, the faithful one escapes from the chains of to-do’s and is present at the football pitch . Flags sway from left to right, trumpets and drums roar , the magisterial wave wraps around the stadium like wrap around a present. An exquisite, ravishing and magnificent mosaic is made upright by the die hard faithful to send a daring message to those who have entered their grounds. The strict formula, method and regulations of life are thing of the past and their is only one to follow, the heart; there is only one existing location, the temple. In this sacred space, the only religion that does not have atheists exhibits its divinities. Although the fan can contemplate the miracle, more comfortably, on the TV screen, he prefers to undertake the pilgrimage to this place where he can see his angels in flesh and blood, fighting a duel against the demons of the day and explains, “ How will you know what love is if you never became a fan of a club. How will you know what pain is if the defender never broke your tibia and fibula and you were in a slide tackle and the ball hit you right there. How will you know what pleasure is if you never had the pleasure of enjoying an olympic lap around the visitors stadium. How are you going to know what love is if you never caressed her with the back of your foot to leave her panting under the net. Listen to me ... how will you know what solidarity is if you never went out to face a comrade hit from behind. How will you know what