Descriptive Essay Football

Throughout my years, I have mostly been associated with flag football. Stepping onto a football field takes a lot of guts and there was a time when I had to overcome my own doubts. Back in the Fall of 2015, my sophomore year, I was still a shrimp compared to my superior teammates. Every practice I would exhaust myself to prove my worthy to be on the team, but even more, on the field. Although I was the only player aiming to be quarterback, it did not mean I did not have to try. The second practice started, I felt rumbles within my heart. Of course Juniors and Seniors doubted my skill, that’s no surprise. I was determined to earn their respect no matter what.

Achieving a goal that I set for myself during my freshman year of high school has proven to be the greatest challenge I have ever overcome. My goal, to start varsity football for my high school, St. Edward, first occurred to me during the first high school football game I ever went to. I was ten years old, and my dad took my family and I to my school’s first state championship in December, 2010. We drove to Canton, Ohio to see the game at the Hall of Fame stadium. What I remember most clearly is the snow slowly falling down on the crowd and field, and the spirited roars of the fans. The game excited and inspired me to go St. Ed’s as soon as I finished grade school. When I first came to St. Ed’s, the thought of playing under the Friday night

Living in the south you may frequently hear the saying “everything's bigger in Texas.” The food, teased hair, Whataburger sweet tea, but most importantly, football is one of the most intrinsic parts of the state. The dominating sport that makes America differ from the rest of the world is especially larger in Texas, but I had no idea how much I loved football until I went to an A&M game.

While I had the opportunity to go to a state soccer tournament, I was fortunate enough to be able to play with a group of hard-working girls. On that state road trip, we all created memories that were unforgettable.

I am at my soccer game on my grandpa’s birthday and the score is 0-0 we are about to start. The ref blows his whistle and the game is on. 15 minutes into the game the other team gets the ball on a drive and sinks it into the back of the net. The score is 1-0 but we still have a big game in front of us and we keep playing. The ball is passed and shot and thrown and kicked in all directions. Now the other team wins the ball and runs down the field shoots hard and sinks it in the back of the net which puts them up 2-0 we are losing but we still don’t stop fighting. There are only 10 minutes left to the half at this point I get the ball from my defender at half field. Being a semi goalkeeper myself I noticed the goalkeeper is too far off his line. I take one more touch so I’m just in front of the half and shoot. The ball is in the air with magnificent spin turning into curl and as the goalkeeper runs back to get the ball he fails and the ball is in the side netting.

As I put my black and gold jersey on, I thought of the outcome of tonight's game. Either the Penguins come out as champions, or they are forced to game 7. I walked downstairs to put my shoes on, and I saw my brother with his black and teal jersey on. We headed to the car. My mom was already annoyed by how much my brother and I were fighting over who would win the intense game. Finally, after a couple of minutes, we journeyed to the big game. After a long ride, we finally entered the streets of Pittsburgh. We sensed the excitement and tense atmosphere of the city. Everybody crawled the streets getting ready for the big game. When waited in line, it seemed like the whole city tried to rush in. The line took about 45 minutes, but it seemed like hours. Finally, as we went through security, we were dogs released from a cage. From the time we found our seats until the beginning of the game, more and more people filled the massive arena. Many people filled the seats up like sardines. When everybody arrived to my favorite place, we all waited for 8 o'clock, the start of the game.

“It’s playable. It’s just before the sand trap,” I tell my opponent before walking up and switching places with her. I tee up my ball and take a step back to look at my line. I position myself and the sound of my club sweeping across the grass fills the air as I practice my swing. I wipe my sweaty palms on my shorts to stop the club from slipping. Feeling confident I square myself up with the ball and ground my feet into the short soft grass. I turn my shoulders, raise my club, and turn through my swing quick as lightning, sending my drive straight down the fairway and right onto the green. Grinning I pick my tee off from the ground and walk back to my clubs. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect way to end my round. I wait patiently as my opponent hits their ball right into the trees.

As I dig my heels nervously into the artificial grass, I think about the cleats that have run across this field in the many home games. Especially that last rivalry game which was the game that was of most importance to everyone at that school. The game was between the north and south county high schools and just about everyone and their brother had come out to watch the sweaty football players run back and forth across that field.

The last bell of the day rang releasing all of the students. Most of the students went home, except all of the soccer students. As I picked up my bag, I walked towards the locker room. The soccer team sounded like a bunch of animals in the locker room. The whole team was changing into our bright red uniforms. Positive energy flowed through all of the players. “Are you ready?”, my friend asked. “Yes!”, I replied as I nodded. The speaker was dancing, and playing loud music. We all packed our bags and were getting ready to head out to the field. Out of the locker room we followed the long hallway that lead to our destination. The lights of the hallway came down like solar beams. My stomach began to turn of nervousness. The never ending walls of the hallway seemed like we were traveling through the desert. At the end of the hallway to large, grey doors were waiting for us. The doors opened, and the sun greeted us.

While it may not be a recognizable stadium like US Bank Stadium, Clemens Stadium at Saint John’s University holds a lot of meaning to me. While I have never played a game on that turf, I have spent many Saturdays cheering on the Johnnies, playing catch with my cousins and uncles, and helping out on the sidelines with the Chain Gang crew. These long days in the sun, rain, and snow are some of the most memorable of my life. Clemens Stadium means more than football to me. I have learned about perseverance and not giving up when things seem impossible.

It was a cool, overcast October day. My Father and I left early in the morning to make the drive from Davenport, Iowa to Green Bay, Wisconsin to watch our beloved Packers play the Minnesota Vikings. The game would mark my first Packers game ever. The year was 2010, and Brett Farve would take the field at Lambeau for the final time in his career; but obviously not in a green and gold jersey. The Packer faithful did not view him as a loss as we found new talent in our young quarterback, Aaron Rodgers. Rodgers would lead the Packers to a Super Bowl win later that season. It was sure to be a memorable day.

On a regular Friday evening, I was able to attend one of my student’s football games. I had two students in attendance one female and one male. The female was on the cheerleading team supporting the team that the male was playing for. The team I was having to root for was recognized as the “Ravens”, composed of quite a few third graders and up. In their gear, as in they were professionals you could tell the excitement from the players as the cheerleaders began jumping and cheering as they approached.

The night of the homecoming football game quickly approached. Sitting in the band room, the color guard frantically applied makeup, somehow making themselves look effortless through the rushed motions of the brushes sweeping across high cheekbones and the precise, sharp winged eyeliner. We were all nervous for what was to come: our performance. The color guard performs along to the marching band, the visuals to the music. The sweeping flags entice the audience, the clean catches of the rifles leave the viewers gaping in rapture, and the smiles of the performers sweetens the whole experience.

PUNT: A useful way of measuring the sophistication of a soccer crowd is to listen to their reaction to a long punt by the goalkeeper. If they ooh! and aah! as the ball arcs downfield for 40 or 50 yards, chances are that they don't know too much about soccer. A long punt, assessed by

Central is very rare to say the least. The word rare having a good meaning to it. Rare meaning the community is not one that is not one have have ever been around. They are unbelievably supportive and the football team is so unbelievably close. The athletes are great there. I mean they are those kids that might drive one up the wall but then there are those who are great athletes and even better people. Going into this clinical rotation I was really nervous. I had somewhat of an idea of what would be expected for me and that made me really nervous. I knew I was going to be told I had to communicate with the athletes, coaches, and parents but was worried about what they would all think of me. I knew Katie was going to put me in charge of different tasks and would push me to become a better athletic trainer. Central is without a doubt the best community to do this in.