I Miss Playing Football

Playing football was probably one of the most valuable experiences I’ve had in my lifetime. It taught me a lot of things and I learned a lot of lessons. In this writing you will learn what I went through when I was on the football team.

Now the Patriots had the opportunity to right the wrongs of the past and win the Super Bowl. Once again my living room was filled with friends and family desperate for a Patriots Super Bowl. Tom Brady had led the Patriots down the field for a touchdown that had put the Patriots ahead. The game was now to be decided by the Seahawks offense against the Patriots defense. Wilson took the snap and threw the ball to his running back Marshawn Lynch. Lynch scampered all the way to midfield. Time was beginning to run out. I felt the confidence in the room was destroyed. I looked at the faces of my friends and family, and they all looked the same. They all shared the same look of despair that we had all felt so many times before. Just a couple plays later Wilson threw a pass deep down the field and somehow, in the same fashion Tyree had seven years prior, made an unbelievable catch. There it was again. The Tyree catch had been replicated once again. Once again our hearts had been ripped out. The Patriots now stood on the edge of another crushing loss. The Seahawks stood on the Patriots goal line. Just inches from total victory. The Patriots were again on the edge of the abyss. As the clock wound down I could feel the energy in the room shoot up. The final play that would determine if the football gods would kill us again, or if we would finally taste the victory we all longed for. Wilson took the snap and everyone was on

“Tom!”, “Mike!”, “Tedy!” Squashed in a crowd of hundreds of people, being prodded forward by my mom, I was overwhelmed by the noise, the air of excitement,everyone hoping for the same thing, an autograph from a Patriots player. I held out my football and hoped someone would grab it and sign it. One player grabbed it, but I didn’t know who because I was anxiously looking at the ground. Mike Vrabel, the huge linebacker, realized the instant he saw me that I was shy and nervous. He got my attention, looked me in the eye and said, “Can you say, Mr. Vrabel, will you please sign my ball?”He was trying to help me get over my fear and ask for a signature. I wished that it was that easy.

I was discouraged by his abandonment of the team. I decided to never leave a game no matter the score. Although to no surprise, Kansas won. I could not believe it. A stream of tears began to run down my face as I ran up the stairs to deliver the horrible news to my father, who was disappointed but not surprised. I sprawled out onto the floor dispirited and let out a cry for longer than the baby had. My father made an attempt to stop me, but my sadness was not to be argued with. Today, I laugh at the story, impressed by the amount of passion and importance I held in a simple game.

Published on December 6, 2010 by Thomas Lake, “The Boy Who Died of Football” explains a period of life of a 15-year-old boy named Max Gilpin. Max is portrayed as a shy and obedient child that strived to please everyone. He was a sophomore student and football player at Pleasure Ridge Park High School in Kentucky. Lake writes that Max was not pressured to please only two parents, but also his two step parents, “They had family meetings, four against one…” (1). Although he played football, it hadn’t always been a passion of his. He was persuaded many times by his parents to continue football in middle school. Lake states, “...gradually he came to embrace football” (1). Wanting to please his

It was without a doubt that every American is familiar with the fanatic insanity that follows the game of football. Moreover, for those who are unfamiliar with American culture, most would be amazed how much football influences American society; specifically the nation’s adolescence. As a matter of fact, it has been estimated by the National Federation of State High School Association that “there are approximately 1.1 million high school players” in the country (Petraglia et al 4). However, despite football’s popularity among youth, it is irresponsible for a parent to allow their son to play football without knowing the significant abuse a child will endure on the field. In reality, Football is a cruel barbaric sport that exploits the safety

On my first day of rocket football practice in fifth grade I was nervous. This was the first year at my new school I would be playing football; Because of this I felt I had to prove myself to the players and the coaches. Unexpectedly, my coach yelled promptly at 6pm for us to fall into a line. Out of fear of running laps we all compelled to orders. Being the new guy, I was shoved to the fresh start of the line, after chatting with the two coaches beside him. Suddenly he began to speak in a less tempered voice. In such a way that made it seem he just realized he was yelling at kids to begin with. Calmly, he told us about how we were not allowed to practice without our helmet, shoulder

grader when football caught my interest, football was always a huge part of my family. Football impacted both my Mom and Dad’s side of the family, everyone was connected to football, whether they played the sport, cheered , or was their soon to be husband’s biggest fan. I come from a small city in the Rio Grande Valley. My city isn’t the largest there is but, this city made me the person I am today and I’ve made so many memories here so this city means the world to me. Growing up here, sports was a major part of my life. A majority of kids always slept in most weekends, but I always had practice or games on Saturdays. Sundays I was up early to attend church with my family.

I noticed, through the window, that it had begun snowing again, wind was picking up. I

It is the fun of picking your favorite team and the super bowl party watching your team go to the final round. Through all the injuries, all the lost; football is only one thing to the players and fans the best game ever made. The retired NFL player Peyton Manning said after his last season with getting neck surgery, “I fought a good fight and now I finish my football race." "After 18 years, it's time. God bless all of you, and god bless football." Football is a sport you can’t take away, it’s one of America's favorite pass times. It is a sport that can only get safer over time, but for now let the player’s play their beloved

When I was a young boy, my grandfather would always refer to my brother and I as “Sports Fans.” “ Okay Sports Fans,” he would say with hopeful eyes, “ Who is ready to watch the big game?” Immediately, my hand would shoot into the air to pledge my allegiance to whichever team it was that my grandfather wanted to win. The problem was, I did not share my grandfather's interest; even when my families home team, the New Orleans Saints, would play, all I routed for was an interesting game to watch while I ate my burger before going to play outside. To this day I wish that I had taken advantage of my grandfather's spirit and knowledge of football so that I could participate in the conversations of last nights “Big Game” and express my expectations

The next day after my game winning catch and my title as MVP I received an email. I grasped my phone and checked the message, it was from my coach. It read, "Congratulations on the big win everyone! And a special congrats to our MVP Alex. I would like to celebrate at my house, party starts 7:00 PM tomorrow. Congratulations again on the win everyone." I looked up and slowly shifted my vision down my line of football trophies. I put my MVP trophy on the shelf and slowly stood up. "dad!" I yelled and started towards the door.

When I was younger in 7th grade something happened that I could have never imagined. The cold morning of October was seeping in. I could feel beads of perspiration running down my forehead. You could see frosty exhales. The ferocious pounding of cleats smothered the grass. The quarterback called the cadence between exhausted breathes. Then, like a switch was flipped everyone moved at once. I took the handoff from the quarterback and felt the rough texture of the ball. There was virtually nowhere to run. Then instantly there were numerous adversaries trying to bring me down. All of a sudden I was falling backwards. I heard the most horrific noise of my life. The back of my head hit the cold, hard field. My skull felt as if it was rumbling everywhere. Everything was blurry. I felt an excruciating pain everywhere in my head. I heard a silent ringing. I heard multiple coaches feet against the ground flattening the grass. I heard muffled voices. I could feel my coaches coarse hands as he was helping me up.

I can remember the day like it was yesterday, Friday, October 3, 2014. This was my junior year at Canton high school where I was playing football and lacrosse. But in October it’s the middle of the football season and it’s now just heating up. On this cloudy, cold, rainy October day, we were playing the Livonia Churchill Chargers for the conference championship and the winner was going to play in the final for the division. I

Ever since I can remember I was on a field or a court, I was either watching my siblings play a sport or participating in a game myself. Sports played a huge role in my life, but that all changed on September 25, 2016. That evening, I was participating in my first powder-puff football game, as a junior, when I slammed my head off of the field as I dove for a senior’s flag. Maybe my situation would not have been so severe if I had come out of the game, but my coaches and trainers did not see me hit my head. They all congratulated me on the play and encouraged me to finish the game strong, “Wow Karlie, great play! Go back out there and finish the game!” I did not realize what had happened until I went into the locker room after the game and struggled to untie my spikes. It wasn’t long before my friends realized that there was a serious problem. Later that evening at The Children’s Hospital of Pittsburgh, I was diagnosed with a severe concussion. Little did I know, my whole life was about to change. Unfortunately, I was no longer able to participate in sports, but I recognized that I needed to find new endeavors while I healed from my injury.