I couldn’t find better words to start off my speech with than those of Matthew Healy, “I think about dying but I don’t want to die. Not even close. In fact my problem is the complete opposite. I want to live, I want to escape. I feel trapped and bored
Ever since I could remember, soccer had been in my life. If there was a soccer team that needed a coach, my father was always the first to volunteer. There were almost too many strenuous weekends spent hours away from home for soccer tournaments to count. My entire family, consisting of my parents, my siblings, my dog, and myself, packed in a mini-van heading to a city that I had never heard of for soccer games. But when I entered high school, all that would soon go away. I kept playing the same sport that I always had, although now I had to wake up at five in the morning for six hours of high school soccer practice in the smoldering summer heat in order to make the high school team. High School sports were more competitive than anything I had done before. I put in as much effort as I could to make the Varsity High School team, staying out past dinner to practice even longer. I was utterly divulged in soccer and trying to be the best I could be. Soon, I would regret placing a game over spending time with my family.
L.A. essay Why soccer is the best sport By: Omar Soccer is the most played sport worldwide, many people love it and I’m one of them, it is my favorite sport because you can improve your skills with your feet, and get a lot of exercise. By writing this essay, I hope that I can provide more information about the sport and maybe convert the people who dislike the sport into fans.
When we were together we were invincible, us against the world. I’d look up to him, not only because he was 6’4, but because he was my grandpa. I have clear memories of him picking me up from school, playing old school reggae music during our adventurous car rides. We’d always sing along to our favorites, sometimes turn the music up so loud the people in the cars next to us could hear it. When I would visit his apartment, the familiar smell of drywall and pennies would fill the air. It was my hideaway, my home away from home. My grandpa collected pennies in water jugs. He would say that one day they’d be worth more than just pennies. I loved it there, not only because he had a freezer filled with many flavors of ice cream to which he would often say to me “you can have all you can eat” but because it was our time to bond. For five years it was my mom, my dad, and my grandpa helping me to grow. Those are my favorite people, my role models. Being around my grandpa brought me such comfort and joy.
Everyone has a memory that they will never forget, a memory that is so sentimental that you will cherish it for as long as you can remember. Soccer is a sport where you can meet anyone and everyone when you play with or against them, however you may not notice what is actually happening when you play. I had one of those memories when I was fourteen years old. Everyone can have one of these memories when they play soccer competitively, for fun, or just in their free time. This memory is about when I went to another city to play soccer and when I got there it changed my life as a young adult and effected me in the long run.
The odds were always against us, yet we persevered. When everybody told us “no, it cannot be done”, we stared right back at them and simply smiled while nodding because we always did our talking on the field, where it really matters. This is a story of how the Dulles
Growing up in a Hispanic household my family’s culture has had a significant impact in my life from avoiding a different variety of salsas and thinking twice about my immature decisions. Yet their love for the beautiful game known as Fútbol or soccer has always held on to me and
The summer rain of San Luis Potosí, México, made it almost impossible to go outside and enjoy the city without getting drenched, so Abuelito, Silence, and I together in one room, enjoying our second return to our hometown. He sat on his chair and I lay on the bed, calmly looking through the family albums. Bookshelves filled with books from my mother’s and uncles’ university courses and my Abuelita’s books from her teaching years covered one wall. It remained the same ever since we moved to the United States. The same TV. The same bed sheets. The only things that changed was my grandpa’s ability to walk and me. I gained height and weight and well, he has gotten older and weaker. I have lived my whole life with him by my side but do I really
Growing up in this city of Chicago was very nice. I lived on the Westside of Chicago, Hamlin and Augusta. Our community was not a community it was block. The block is the street that I lived one. My sisters and I was able to go to the park until the sunset. We would walk almost a mile just to have fun. We was able to walk everywhere, candy store, school, parties, and mall. All the houses on the blocks where kept up so nice. Every house had a flower bed. There were no boarded up houses. The grass was cut so well, and the brushes were trimmed nicely. You could smell the food that the neighbors were cooking. All the children on the block were able to play with each other. The neighbor would feed the other neighbors children. The trust for the people on Hamlin was very strong because everyone knew each other for years. The early 2000’s is a year that I will never forget. In 1973 my mom was born in Chicago. She lived in the same house that I lived in on Hamlin. As I was talking to my mother she was telling me that her life living in Chicago was lovely. Her dad
I went to my living room to ask my mom a question, to see she wasn’t there. I asked my brother “where’s mom?” and he replied with “shes at the hospital, grandpa got burnt.” I would never have expected “grandpa got burnt” to be as severe as it was. I remember my mom coming home around two in the morning. I got up and out of bed to ask some questions. She said “I don’t wanna talk about it right now. Pack some stuff up, we’re going to Waterloo tomorrow.” So I listened and packed up a bag.
Everyone has that certain thing that makes them who they are. That certain thing for me is soccer. It’s my hobby, my biggest interest, and my passion. Soccer isn’t just a sport for me, it’s my life. It has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. I have played the intriguing game of soccer since I was four years old, and I have loved it ever since.
In middle school, the relationship I had with my grandfather was one which was unbreakable. Even though he did not live in the same state, and I had both of my parents in the home he was always there for me. We place bets with each other over sporting events, like the World Series or the NBA Final, and the loser had to pay up whenever we were together again. Because I lived in North Carolina and he lived in upstate New York, we only saw each other once or twice a year, but he made we had together the most enjoyable. When my family would make the trip to New York I could not wait to see him because we talked about the various thing we were going to do when we were finally together, things like going to restaurants, going to amusment parks, and going to the mall. As a young child, these were all things you love to do, and he would make these events family outings, so all my cousins who were around the same age would come as well. This brought our family very close. While he was alive I was played every sport, and excelled in most of them. I enjoyed golf in particular because it was a sport my grandfather never really played, making him fascinated in every aspect of the sport. Although I was a superb athlete, I was good student as well. I made honor every year and that was what made him the proudest. Of all his grandchildren, there were only a few of us who excelled in school, and he incentivized us to keep up the good work by giving us money. Needless to say, there was not a
I walked into the hospice care building with my family excited to see my grandpa, who I hadn’t seen in a couple weeks. The building had a peaceful atmosphere, staffed with caring nurses. They had beautiful flowers planted outside and a kitchen filled with good food. The building had a weird feeling to it though. It had a certain distinct smell to it, similar to a nursing home or hospital. Though, the more I thought about my grandpa being there made me slowly get more and more upset. The last day I saw my grandfather was the day I realized, to be happy in life, I must accept everything that comes my way and make the most out of the life I was given.
El amor de Futbol Ever since I could remember, I have always had love for the game of soccer ever since I first laid eyes on the sport. As a kid, I would spend countless hours in the backyard by myself; I would juggle, kick around the ball and doing drills. When I wasn't in the yard pretending to be Lionel Messi I would watch Ronaldinho videos on Youtube dreaming I will one day play against him. Call me crazy, but I was addicted, even as a young boy, to the beautiful sport itself, soccer.
All around me I could hear what people were saying and majority of my soccer teammates were talking about me, yet they could not know I could hear them. My heart sinks when they call me big ears grant and I always get depressed but at this moment I am used to it. I look different from people, well people look different from me.Only me and my bestfriend know my secret, the hopeless part is that my best friend died three years ago in a car accident.I refused to go to school for one week he was my only friend. Not even my parents know my secret that I can hear anything and everything.