It was a brisk Saturday morning in late March; I shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen where my dad was waiting for me. “Ready to go?” he asked in a less than enthusiastic voice. My dad was never a morning person, and forcing him to wake up to attend my games really put that into perspective. But on this particular Saturday I couldn’t care less; this was an important day, my final basketball game of the season and my final season of my basketball career, a series finale if you would. “Sure am” I responded quickly, as I walked out of the house in my uniform and flip flops so as not to damage my basketball shoes on the walk to and from the court. As ridiculous as this degree of shoe protection sounds, it was common practice between me and my teammates.
Driving over to the court I reflected back on my five years spent on my middle school basketball team. I was never an athletic child, but basketball was the center of my middle school’s student life. Those who didn’t belong to the team were cast out of most social groups and were less popular within the school. Regardless of my years of experience and practice I was never considered a good player. My ball-handling and shooting skills were slightly worse than all the teams we played against and admittedly I spent most of my time on the bench. Even on my time on the court I didn’t see the ball much as it was held for the majority of the game by point guard Jack Soucy. Jack was by far the best player on the team and due to his
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We walked together to the field, the spikes on the bottom of my cleats clicking with each step on the parking lot pavement. A huge field with onlookers filling the bleachers on the far side came into view, lit up by the soft evening light. I spotted the girls on my team and my tired looking grey-haired coach. Me and my dad split up, me going to warm up with my team and my dad going to sit with the team parents. As I was passing with my teammates I watched the opposing team carefully. I observed how neat their drills were and how accurate their shots and passes were. They all looked so athletic and that really made me doubt myself. How was I supposed to prove to everyone that I was a good player if I had to play against a team this good? What if I mess up and the other team completely destroys my team? The loud buzzer that ended the warm ups sounded and both teams went to their side of the field. My coach called today’s starters out, and luckily he didn’t choose me. Relieved, I went to go sit on one of the hard metal chairs they provided for the teams on the sidelines. The chairs were uncomfortable but that didn’t bother me. I had other things on my mind. I sat shivering watching the events of the game
I walked into school to be greeted by a janitor vacuuming the floors. It was time to start thinking about the game and getting my focus level up. My pregame ritual wasn’t always the same beside for one thing, be the first to the locker room to have time to think to myself. Walking into the light blue and worn-down locker room it was almost like I could feel the emotion from all the players who had been there before myself. I was greeted by a wave of smell, the smell of victory, defeat, and pure hard work. It was quite musty but I was used to it and had grown accustomed to it. I sat myself down and began to think about how I would perform tonight and what I had to do in order to be victorious. I pictured myself going out onto the court and seeing all the fans packed into our old wooden bleachers. All I wanted to do was make them proud of the team they came to watch. I looked out the window to see the vehicles of my fellow teammates driving into our dirt parking lot. Soon, the locker room would no longer be quite and it would be filled with the shrieks, laughs, and giggles of my
Playing the game of basketball has had its rewards. Having developed my skills, I was voted team captain six years in a row. As captain, I was able to lead my teams to the championships every year. Winning four out of those six championships, we were able to bring home a trophy every time. I remember the exact feeling I felt after winning my first high school championship. It was an indescribable feeling of awe. I ended up playing the entire game, and no exhaustion could ruin the happiness I felt that night. These achievements were very rewarding, not only at the time but also in the
The day was October 8th, 2014. I hardly played. One school day, my 5th teacher, Ms. Smit said, “flyers for the basketball team on the table” ordinarily I took one. Kids from 4th, 5th, and 6th grade came to try out for the team. After tryouts, a paper next to the nurse's office was hung up. The paper sheet named those who had made the team. Surprisingly, I made the team, most likely from my height. I felt like I shouldn’t have made the team. At the time, I barely started to play basketball. I went to the practices at school and tried to make myself a little bit better, since a tournament was about to begin in a few weeks.
As an individual I love staying active, socializing with others, being dependable, and keeping busy. Playing Basketball for Flour Bluff ISD, since the seventh grade, has granted me the opportunity to achieve all of these goals. For some peculiar reason I have consistently felt that I lacked experience of which my peers had, and that I would never be able to acquire it. Soon after I started playing I became intimidated of my fellow teammates and worried about the time I felt I lost, due to beginning so late in my childhood. Without fail, I always feel a sense of accomplishment after making it through tryouts every year and as I approach my final season, it has become clear just how much of my life was devoted to Basketball, that I truly love it and how I am thankful to be a part of something much more than just a team.
Patiently waiting, the little boy comes in rushing, full of energy, and I can see him changing into basketball shorts and putting socks on. Then a sudden whip-lash, he grabs me and he slips his feet inside super fast. He’s running now, I can feel myself being stepped on, and I am also stepping on dirty floor. He runs outside, and this is my first time stepping on concrete, I hope I don’t get creased or stepped on by other shoes. I am so nervous I can barely catch my breath. I can feel sweat and moist already surround my soles. We finally arrive at the park. I see my fellow basketball shoes all looking very sharp, but I believe nothing can compare to me I am the best, and I am here to make sure I protect my owners ankles and feet and to help him play better, and give him extra boost to hop and jump.
I attended all training sessions and spent a great amount of time playing basketball since the thrill of winning games, of becoming better pushes me forward. I believed my efforts are worthy, since I had the advantage over other players in speed and keen awareness, and I trained harder than others every day. Basketball was the only thing on my mind. Then the time came to assemble the official school team to participate in formal basketball games. I thought for all my efforts
The game was about to start, walking onto the court, warming up and getting ready for tip-off, I had a huge amount of confidence before hand. The game had begun, although, as the game went on, I wasn’t doing as well as I would have liked. It seemed like I couldn’t hit a shot, neither could the entire team.Throughout the game, we were always down, we never lead at any
My family was born to play basketball, both of my brothers had the size and athleticism to play professionally, and my dad towered over others standing at 6’6”. At a young age I was expected to follow in their footsteps. However, I did not have the size that the rest of my family did, and struggled to compete due to my small stature. In the seventh grade I tried out for my middle school basketball team and was promptly told I wasn’t good enough to play. I came home crying feeling that I disappointed my family. The next year, during the eighth grade try-outs, the coach said the same thing and broke my heart for the second year in a row. Dissatisfied with these results, I promised that I would make a change before entering high school.
I have gone through many experiences and journeys throughout my life. However, out of all of them, one stands out the most. That one journey that stands out the most is making the middle school basketball team. It was a two long journey that I will never forget. It all started seventh grade year at Sebring Middle School when I tried out for the basketball team. The whole month before tryouts, I conditioned and played basketball nonstop preparing for the week-long tryouts. Finally, the first day of tryouts came and everything went well. The second day of tryouts came, which is when they do the first cut, and I was lucky enough not to get cut. After the second day, the next two days were a breeze. Then Friday came, the last day of tryouts. At
“Rest with me for a moment or two I have a story to tell you.” I have played basketball for six years straight now i'm on the middle school team. This is an intense sport with lots of running and shooting and a lot of getting injured. This sport takes lots and lots of practice. Also lots of teamwork. This is important to me because I want to get a basketball scholarship to go to the University Of Florida and accomplish my dream and become a basketball player of the WNBA(Women's National Basketball Association.) Another reason, is that I wanna make my mom, dad, grandma,and grandpa proud of me . They wanted me to play basketball because I have been so good at it over the years .They want me to succeed and get a scholarship in this sport.Then
There have been several events that have affected my life. there's times that life will hit you hard that will make you fall over but you will need to get back up and continue what you started. This is how i viewed myself with my ambitious journey of basketball. I was around seven years old when I was bored at home and I turned on the TV and was skipping through the channels and I wanted to see what I was going to be able to watch. I stopped at the sports channel for whatever reason and I remember that it was a Spurs game in the NBA (National Basketball Association). I was in shock seeing people jump all around being able to run from the court coast to coast being chased down by others trying to get the ball through the basket. I saw this particular player at the time on the opposing team Ray Allen from the Boston Celtics. This man had such a dominant presence on the court just getting the ball and being able to shoot the ball in any given time in whatever position he was in either it was going to be contested or open he gets the ball its an automatic scoring machine. This got me very fascinated and i began to start watching basketball since that day. I also wanted to try basketball wanted to play the position Ray allen played a shooting guard, one that is a spot up shooter and is in charge to score from a convertible distance away.
Now, the past two years of playing basketball, I've made the varsity team for my middle school. I've been much more calm and motivated during tryouts and practice. I feel like I have proved myself to be a good basketball player, so much so that I might get playing time during games. I can do all of the skills I struggled with when I first started basketball, all because I worked hard and practiced, whether it be in my driveway, or at team practices at school.
Playing basketball in elementary was always fun in P.E. but it was something that I wanted to do against real competition and not the crazy kids everyday kids in P.E. class. I first tried out for my elementary basketball team in the third grade which was the minimum grade they allowed kids to play basketball. Even though I was very shorter and smaller than the other kids I luckily made the team and it made me very happy. One day I gave my opinion to the coach regarding bettering the team thinking I could be very helpful. Unfortunately, he didn’t think so and thought I was insulting his knowledge about the game which they started a series of disagreements throughout the season. Eventually he put me off the team that year and every year afterwards. After being put off the team I told myself I would just do as the coach says even though I knew that I was right. A year past and I eventually tried out for my middle school team. I made the team and It was a whole different experience for me. I bettered myself throughout those years and carried my love of basketball into my high school years.
One rainy night in November, I arrived to the church gym for my first basketball practice of the season. As I walked in the doors creaked and you could smell the gym floor. As I already heard the basketballs hitting the ground, bouncing up and down. My friends Brittany and Destiny walked in right behind me through the door. That was when we realized we were the only girls surrounded by all guys. As practice came to a start we began to run, it felt like we were never going to stop. Up and down the court as we ran suicides, you could hear the squeaking of shoes as we went from the next line back and then on to the next. Before we started scrimmaging, the two captains were boys. Brittany, Destiny, and I stood in amazement as we were the last three standing there. You could see by their expressions they didn’t want any of us on either team.