Descriptive Essay on Basketball Gym

Basketball was my favorite sport growing up. I’ve played since I was little and I still play the game today. I played basketball at my elementary school, St. Cecilia, from Kindergarten till 8th Grade and also played AAU basketball for about 2 years before entering High School. Going into my freshmen year of High School, the first sport I played was basketball. Tryouts began in about the start of November and ended about 2 weeks after. I had made the Freshmen A team. I was excited and as the season progressed, we didn’t win many games but I still had fun playing. Nearing the end of the season, golf was another sport coming up that I also wanted to try and play. I say “try and play” because at the time, I was also going to play AAU basketball. I had set in my mind that I was going to play basketball for all of my four years of high school, but my parents pushed me to tryout for golf. When the basketball season ended, golf tryouts started. Tryouts lasted for about 2 weeks, and I made the JV team. When I found out I made the team, I was very surprised. I hadn’t put in the hard work as others before tryouts came around, but the coach saw potential in me and that I can become a great player. The coach saw so much potential in me, that every week, I kept progressing in skill and fine tuning my mechanics. Halfway through the season, about 4 or 5 weeks after I made the team, my coach gave me the chance to play with the Varsity Golf team for a couple days. I was excited and eager to

A plethora of reasons exist as to why a certain sport might signal importance to a state, but in Indiana, the sport happens to standout on a whole different level. Current Southeast Dubois Superintendent, Rick Allen, commented on why Indiana high school basketball remains superior saying, “One reason Indiana high school basketball is such a standout of a sport in Indiana is because of the community support behind the team” (Allen 2). The era of basketball between 1911-present remains crucial today not only for the big schools’ gyms in Indiana, but also for small towns gyms such as Huntingburg, Loogootee, Tell City, Ferdinand, and numerous others.

Everyone remembers that one place, that one place that instantly makes you feel good, that one place where you can completely act like yourself. For me, that one special location forever remains Texas Best Gymnastics, in McKinney, Tx. What I always adored was practicing with my team.I began competing there at the age of eight, and I competed my last competition shortly after my thirteenth birthday. However, even though I no longer spend half my time at the gym like I used to, it still invokes the same effect on me. Now that I stepped away from competing for a few years, when I look back on how stressful it seemed, I can still see all the wonderful memories I created. More than anything, I see what a wonderful impact the gym had on my life.

Even though it was a struggle for me to even go to practice everyday, I still pushed through and I made the best of every single situation. When game day came, and it was time to play, all I could think about was the feeling I would get when the ball hit my hand. Many people don’t understand what it feels like. It feels like you found a missing puzzle from your life, which you didn't even know was missing. It’s like every worry you ever had, big or small, is gone. For that split second that the ball touches your hand, nothing else matters. It’s just you, the ball, and the court.

The first thought I had when I first stepped into this place was fear. As a toddler, this was a big place to be without my mom being right beside my side. I saw all of the older girls defending their kingdom, flying through the air, in my eyes, perfectly. Knowing one day, I wanted to be just like them. That day, I felt inspired to be the best I could be, pushing myself to be nothing less. From that day on, every time I step into the gym, all I feel is a feeling of gratefulness. Where else could I ever have this feeling?

John was the Picasso of basketball. The ball was his paint, the court, his canvas, and the college recruiters were the people ever so eager to purchase his work. His teammates were like his brushes, each accomplished a different stroke, but all were instruments John used to create masterpieces of the game. Not only did John use his teammates to paint the game, he used his own movements as well. Consequently, there wasn’t a soul on the court that could keep up with that sort of mastery. Game after game, each was its own creation masterfully crafted by John, using his teammates to create a beautiful painting.

Opportunity awaited and excitement filled my soul. It was the second game of the basketball season and coach presented me with the opportunity to start in the line up. Stunned at the news, I geared up and prepared to infiltrate into the gym. With me too excited to stretch, I concentrated on the tip

As you might have guessed, your aim had been a little off and the ball thumped against the backboard before launching across the court. Steve chased the ball as you worked your shoes off your feet and dropped them against the hollow floor. They thumped louder than you expected and you grimaced as Steve’s questioning gaze shot back at you.

In today’s busy world, it can be hard to find the time to even think about one’s fitness, let alone actually do anything to maintain it. The average person has school, work, family, pets, and many more distractions in their life to ensure their fitness is left on the backburner. However, when the thought of exercise does eventually enter their mind, the thought that often comes forefront is that of the gym. The concept of a gym is simple, populate a building with the necessary equipment for a variety of physical activities, attracting people who want to get that perfect body or even just get back in shape. However, many people who have never frequented a gym often come up with a plethora of reasons not to go.

As my alarm clock startled me from sweet dreams, I grinned realizing game day had come upon us. I leapt out of bed in excitement as I skipped to the bathroom. I filled the bathroom with “Today’s Hits” on Pandora, sprang in the shower, and danced while scrubbing my hair. After showering, I brushed my teeth, gave the mirror a cheesy smile, and headed to my room. I slipped into my Crestwood Girls Basketball long sleeve and a pair of jeans. I combed through my hair and decided to let it air dry. I gulped down my breakfast in three bites, grabbed my book bag, and zoomed out the door. After an exhilarating start to the day, I anticipated tonight’s basketball game would bring more delight to that wonderful day.

“You ready to get whooped on, lil dude?” These words forever spew from the mouth of my biggest rival, my dad. Whether it’s in 2k or a spelling bee, the man is a massive competitor ‘til the end. He’d challenge a cheetah to a foot race and a shark to a swimming race in the same day, with every bit of confidence in himself. I’m the cheetah and the shark when it comes to basketball, as he taught me to be. Like my dad, I target my opponent's every weakness, making every possible attempt to defeat them mentally, use any and everything to my advantage, and I show no mercy, in order to dissuade them from ever thinking to oppose me again. I planned to use these strategies on the day I needed them most, The Annual Dixon Family Basketball Tournament, held at the Owen’s Rec Center every year. At my first tournament, I realized where my dad got that killer mentality from. Years later, when I was ready to participate for the first time, I knew it was going down, and there was definitely going to be tears by the end of the night.

As I got an invitation to go to open gym with my friends, my main thoughts were, “I hope I can get some new skills tonight.” Little did I know, my thoughts about four hours later would be, “I have never been so upset, angry, or disappointed in my life.” As I walked into the cold, noisy gym, I was prepared to achieve my round off back handspring back tuck. I assured myself that I would be able to do it successfully. I wished that the ground was as soft and comforting as the dark trampoline with orange and blue bumpers. Seeing girls doing back walkovers on the thin, beige, four- inch beam, swinging their bodies around the slippery, uneven bars, and flipping themselves into the sky blue, squishy mat made me tell myself, “If they can do that,

“The place that I found for my scavenger hunt adventure is the place were you could get fit and exercise is the gym . The name of the gym is called just lift is a great place to take all the stress out when ever you have a bad day your tired from work, and school . For example you feel great getting a work in getting your blood flow going getting all pump ect . The just lift gym the building is 102 the location Is in Hanford I use the Hanford map to find my location and the location is 522 w. 7th street .The building pretty big from inside and outside is a two story building . How many people could fit in the just lift gym like 2 thousand people that goes 6 days a week . The just lift gym is near by the shell gas station there’s like 2 houses behind the gym. Also there another gym cross the street call in-shape but its pretty small I been there once I didn’t like it there was not that much equipment there it was really small from inside. So yeah the just lift gym in Hanford is better. Is a nice part of town for the just lift gym is the best gym in the valley.

Once upon a time, in a place called Twin Falls, Idaho, there was a young fourth-grader attending Morningside Elementary. His name was Johnny, and he was having a great time out at recess. He played soccer, went on the swings, and did more. But there was still one thing he needed to do. He wanted to play basketball.

Dreary gym. Flickering lights. On a Sunday afternoon, my parents obligated me to waste an hour of my day at my dreaded Sunday School. The heavenly site upon which you are supposed to learn about God, Jesus, and how to become a “better” person. In reality, it is just an old gym that smells like my brother’s sneakers with some worn out bleachers stuffed with one hundred-fifty teenagers. Although I do not have much expertise in the teaching religion, I am sure that teenagers do not learn best by having a man in his fifties screaming Jesus at the top of his lungs for five minutes. Nevertheless, the demographic of the people who attended this youth group were Latinos. But upon arriving, I found that many greeted each other with hugs and kisses and complimented one another on their “fye” clothing. As I tiptoed up the bleacher stairs trying not to make a deafening squeak, I heard somebody yell, “Hey U ain’t wearin’ Uggs!” I looked down and realized that I was not wearing my Uggs that day. Instead, I was wearing a similar brand called Baretraps. I turned around and politely commented that yes, she was right, I was not wearing Uggs. In my mind I wondered why she even cared. She simply threw her head back and laughed while her friends emulated her, “What? Are you a white girl now?” I was left speechless. Obviously not; I was raised by two Peruvian parents, and I thought I looked like a Latina, so I did not understand what they were implying. Was it because of my clothing? No, it could not be, other girls were wearing a sweatshirt, leggings, and boots. We were all of a minority group, no hate should exist between us. But what was it that made me so different? As soon as they turned around and started swaggering over to the boys, the answer hit me. I spoke differently. I noticed that they all used slang, different words than I utilized, in every sentence they spoke. Whenever they spoke it sounded like the beginning of a hip hop song, but where did that leave me?