Field Hockey Practice At Phillips Exeter Academy

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.

Abby Christensen, then sophomore, sprints down the field in the State Cup Final. All of a sudden, she collides with her opponent and collapses on the turf.

The chancellor soccer coach is staring at everyone that is on the soccer field getting ready to warm up. We always do a five vs two. It is five players passing the ball and not letting the two defenders get it. After we are done with that we go ahead and start doing dynamic stretching which is when we do something back and forth and after you do something new. Daniel the tiger is getting tired but the coach kept barking at all the animals to push it to your limits. After we finished the dynamic stretching they separated the junior varsity and varsity into groups and varsity had to do plyos and junior varsity had to get and partner and one had to exercise and the other sit down for 2 minutes. After we are done with that we run over to the hurdles. They make us run ten laps of those. The tiger almost gave up but he kept going.We did passing drills and the little tiger was freshened up after he drank water. He felt confident when he went back to the field. He did his very best to be on the team. He never felt like this in a really long time. The wind is getting a little worse. The coach still made us run when the wind started getting harsh. Daniel starting to get cold but he kept going and still not giving up. After the passing drill we start playing practice

It was the first day of tryouts, and I could feel my stomach knotting up, as I got dressed alone in the locker room. I could hear the shouting of thirty, twelve-year-old boys in the locker room next to mine, and a heavy ball formed in my throat as my eyes began to tear up from the fear and anxiety of tryouts building up all at once. I was twelve-years-old heading into my first day of tryouts for the Edina boys Peewee hockey team, what would have been my first day of tryouts for the Edina girl’s U12 hockey team if my dad hadn’t forced me to leave behind what had been my worst year in girls hockey just the previous year. In the Edina youth hockey association, by rules, you must go through two years of U10s and then two years of U12 and so on

Bennett Cohn, a sophomore at Quince Orchard High School, likes to have fun with his friends, and plays sports such as hockey and lacrosse. Cohn has practically been playing sports since he could walk: “I’ve been playing hockey for 9 years and lacrosse for 7 years.” Although Cohn describes himself as mellow and shy, he has, “a more upbeat personality once [he] is more comfortable around people.” As a hockey player, Cohn has achieved many goals. “I have several hockey accomplishments,” Cohn states, “I am the captain of my hockey team and we won a tournament to go play in Canada, and that’s only this year.” As much as Cohn enjoys playing hockey, he also loves watching it. Cohn’s favorite hockey team is the Washington Capitals simply because, “they’re

“You guys want an ice pack?” asked Grace. “Yes!” exclaimed Ashley Nohl. As a group, we all agreed that it would be best if we went in and relaxed for the rest of the afternoon. On the other hand, just as you thought things could not get any worse for Ashley Nohl, it does. Her foot slips through the ladder, making so one leg was on the trampoline and the other leg was beneath the trampoline, along with her hip on the bar of the ladder. Delaney and I rushed over to help her out of the strenuous position; above all, I mostly did it, because I felt bad for hitting her in the back. While Ashley Nohl is stuck, Grace and Sarah are on the other side laughing their heads off about what they had just witnessed.

Now let us take our binoculars and watch as Evan’s life goes on, but I will have to warn you now, something dreadful awaits. Consider Evan age 6; it’s his first pee-wee soccer tournament and him and his teammates are running with the ball, making their way down the field to the goal. They needed this last point to place in the top three teams and the sweat breaks down Evans back. As he runs, he manages to keep the ball away from some competitors until he was at the perfect angle where he could kick with all his might, and he did. The next moment was a blur due to the cheering from the other team. Evan had missed the goal. As the other team cheered and ran back to celebrate, he walked somberly back to his parents, who then comforted him. He

The start of the spring meant baseball season was right around the corner, and our team was hungrier than ever. Our team had high expectations for ourselves, coaches, and even parents. Every day the warm sun beaten down from our shaded faces to the hard dirt, this marked the perfect time to take sharply hit ground balls and pop flies in between the sacred bright white chalk lines. We took drills on the perfect cut green grass surrounded by the four bases shaped into the perfect diamond, evenly separated ninety feet apart. My team always moved with abrupt hustle feeding for every rep possible, while each metal spike from our cleats gripped tightly into the earth.

It was an overcast, hazy-looking day in the town of Sergeant Bluff. The clouds above were thick and gray, ready for the rain to start again. The bright green field was muddy with the occasional murky puddle. Our opponents had a reputation for being intimidating and brutal. It didn’t help that all of their uniforms matched. They had the dark green jerseys and shorts, with white socks, and the cleats of their choice. Maybe it was the rainy weather, or the intimidating team, but I felt something would go wrong.

I pulled my red socks up over my right shin guard, then my left. I slipped on my shoes, making sure they were knotted extra tight so they would not come undone. After I brushed my hair back into a ponytail and fixed my headband, I was ready. On the bus, everyone chattered about the upcoming game, music blaring, loud with excitement. The game featured my soccer team, Oak Hills, and one of our rivals, Ursula. Ursula, known for their great passing and winning record, was very well going to be one of the hardest teams we had to play. But, we were prepared and nothing could stop us.

Hockey is an iconic sport for Canadians. It represents our heart, spirit, and dedication as a country. For years it has been what makes us who we are. But since the beginning of the sport, men’s hockey has been more popular than women’s. This sparks the idea of what gender inequality is like anywhere around the world. It is important to keep sports gender neutral and balanced. We can change hockey for women. The struggle for gender equality is prominent in hockey in Canada, and action needs to be taken in order to prove that gender inequality is a problem universally.

The aroma of freshly mowed grass was overpowering and almost overwhelming as I curved yet another ball just high above the rusted goal post of the Desert Spirit school yard. I squeezed my eyes shut in frustration. I’d spent so much time and put in so much effort just to simply be able to curve a ball into a net and after everything, my skill level seemed to amount next to nothing. My fists clenched with anger as I cursed under my breath and jogged towards the ball. Setting it down almost identically to where I’d shot the previous ball from, the ball flew wildly from my foot in desperation. It had gone farther than the first time. I threw my head back in frustration and started for the ball again, prepared to kick it harder as I got angrier. “Stay

As I walked into Hall D of the Kentucky International Convention Center, I noticed half of my team sitting on the green and blue carpet with yellow streaks. I joyfully skipped over to Lexi, my strong back spot, sat down, and started to tie the long, rough-looking white laces of my off-white Tumblina cheer shoes. All around me, I heard murmurs; cheer counts from one to eight, laughing moms and daughters, gossip behind me, and coaches trying to perfect their teams routine before hitting the big mat. I could smell the strong scent of hairspray, hot food right from the restaurant nearby, and the disgusting smell of spray glitter all around me.

The hazy sun shadowed over the grassy soccer field. Riley got hit in the head and looked up furiously searching for the culprit. He scanned the field and immediately locked eyes with the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Riley noticed her bright yellow jersey thinking that she looked as stunning as a sunrise. He asked one of his team players what her name was. His friend recoiled asking him if he had lost his mind even thinking about the rival team. He drew his attention back to the game.

The track blurred below me as a large surge of adrenaline kicked in. I sprinted faster than a blazing meteor pounding the damp grass under my feet. I was leading! Unexpectedly, an excruciating pain erupted from my right knee, like nails were being viciously hammered into it. Scorching sweat cascaded down my forehead and my parched throat ached for air. I had to ease off but from my peripheral vision, Samantha was rapidly approaching.