My Favorite Song Is Not A Sport

This whole experience started in my backyard. I was playing basketball and I ended up landing wrongly on my foot. My basketball hoop had been set up in a narrow space which also had mostly uneven ground that surrounded the court. I went up for a lay-up and as previously mentioned, landed wrongly to the point that I was in great pain from the injury. Also earlier that day I had jammed my finger, also playing basketball. That jammed finger should have been a sign for me to stop playing, but I thought it would wear off and I would be all good. To my great disadvantage I kept on injuring the ankle and my finger to the point where I could hardly play. So through this experience I had to learn how important it is to let your injuries heal.

As I sat there and let the doctor examine my knee and diagnosis me with a “left knee sprain”. I started to cry. I already knew the outcome that I had a torn ACL (anterior cruciate ligament). I tried to continue to play on it until one time I was playing in a tournament, and I went up to block a girls shot and landed on my

I have been playing volleyball for as long as I can remember. From playing in club volleyball tournaments in the spring to bumping the volleyball around in my living room, I spend most of time playing or practicing for a sport. Most people believe that the only reason kids play sports is because they have athletic skill. I believe that playing a sport is more than just becoming the best player physically, but becoming the best player that your team needs you to be.

My knee was in so much pain I almost cried, normally I don’t really cry. Although I really wanted to continue playing, I was not going to make myself be vulnerable for even more damage to my knee. The next day, I told my mom I couldn’t handle the pain anymore and I need to go to the doctor. While I was at the doctor the only thing I could hope for was that it would not be something serious. After the doctor had done the x-rays they said that I had sprained my knee, and that I would have to use crutches for a week. The doctors also told me that I should not do any physical activity for two weeks and that I should not put any weight on my knee. In my mind I was thinking there is no way that I am going to use crutches. When I told my coach she said “I hope your knee gets better”, because I was not able to play I continue to support my team since I had made a commitment. A few days later my team has a game and they can't find any line judges so coach decide to ask me, knowing that I can’t put a lot of weight on my knee she tells me “you’re going to line judge unless you can find someone else to do it!”, I reminded her that I will not be able to line judge if I want my knee to get better I can’t be putting a lot of weight on

Apart from my little sister, growing up I was the youngest of three boys. Due to an abundance of energy, and an unspoken admiration for my brothers I wanted to do everything they did. They would take me outside, and we would play every sport imaginable, and a majority of my weekends were spent watching their various sporting events. I always knew I wanted to play sports, and as soon as I began going to school I gravitated towards friends who had the same interests as me. In kindergarten I began to play basketball with a few of my best friends. At the time we played solely because we loved running around and being together, but I began to develop a love for the game and a love for competition. As soon as I could I signed up for football, and

Volleyball kept me motivated - it made me work tirelessly to make the team. Though I knew I wasn’t the best player, my team constantly supported my efforts to become better. But, I struggled most with spiking because of my height and for that reason, I thought

So we played when we were be chased on the benches. We were all laughing and saying “ don’t get me.” So then when I jumped down off the bench then I heard a CLICK noise my foot was on its side and it hurt.I walked over to my mom walking on my heel and I said

I have played volleyball since I was in forth grade and it has always been an important part of my life. When I started playing I was absolutely awful; I could not serve a ball over the net. I kept playing though because I believed in myself and I wanted to prove that I could be a strong player. I practiced everyday at home and would take private lessons to improve. My freshman yer of high school I made the junior varsity team and felt very accomplished with myself yet I was not content with only being on junior varsity. The next year I wanted to be on varsity so baldy yet once again, I made junior varsity. I pushed myself and became the captain of the team. By the end of the season I had been moved up to varsity. Now in my senior year of high school I am a starting player on the varsity team. I was not going to give up after my initial failure at the sport. My drive to succeed is what allowed me to be in the position I am on the varsity team

One day I was watching volleyball on TV, it had the same diving concept that soccer did. Volleyball had one huge bright side to it, it was inside and I wouldn’t have to deal with the heat. I started playing volleyball when I was _ years old at the Monrovia Community Center before beginning middle school. I learned a lot of new things during my sixth grade year. The most important thing was that Monrovia Middle School had a volleyball team. Sadly, you had to be in the seventh grade to be on the team. That day I began training and strengthening my skills for try outs coming up at the end of the year.

Knock! It was Drew at Hannah’s bedroom door. It had been five days since Hannah had found out about Lilli’s death and the funeral was that night. Hannah pulled herself out of the mountain of blankets to let Drew in. Hannah was a wreck, mascara all down her face, her hair hadn’t been washed in five days and was in a messy bun, sweat pants and a sweatshirt. When Hannah opened her bedroom door Drew immediately grabbed her small figure and embraced her. He had brought her some homework and Chinese. They sat on the floor sitting criss-cross from each other. “How are you doing? How about you eat something?” asked Drew. Hannah just stared blankly. Drew was starting to get frustrated. “Hannah?” Drew said. Nothing. “Hannah?” Drew repeated. Still nothing. “Hannah! Talk to me! Drew yelled. A single tear slipped down Hannah’s cheek and she yelled back “I’m fine and I don’t want to eat!”. “Damn Hannah! I’m trying to help you and you just push me away. I know losing a best friend is not easy!” Drew said as he got up and started leaving. Hannah stood up following him to the door. “You know why she died? Do you? I bet you don’t!” Hannah yelled as more tears pooled down her face. “It’s my fault!” she yelled. “It’s my fault” she repeated in an almost inaudible whisper. “It’s not your fault Hannah.” Drew said as he wrapped his comforting arms around her. Hannah started sobbing into his shoulder. She kept trying to speak, but nothing could come out in between her sobs. “She died after

I started playing volleyball in third grade. When I was little I always wanted to play volleyball but I was petrified to be on a team with new people. I was in third grade and I had lots of friends I played soccer and basketball with everyone in my class and they also played volleyball but I couldn’t join their team because it was full. I wish I could but now I look back and realize that maybe it was a good thing that I joined a different team.

It all started when I was in fifth grade. It all changed what inspired me came by whole big dream that I wanted to be successful at volleyball. First day of school my mom always makes something good for breakfast. I could hear the popping and crackling as mom dropped the bacon into the frying pan, and soon the salty, greasy smell wafted toward me. Going back to school was like going back to prison, the students walking around with an ugly morning face, and greeting everyone, as i walk into the teacher's room i see her drinking coffee with the smell getting stronger as i'm walking toward her. It was time to go to PE, and my coach got out a circular ball that I had never seen in my life. It was kinda colorful, it had some weird word written on it, but I couldn't see from where I was standing. My coach handed us each one of these balls, and coach called them

It was during a high school wrestling tournament when I noticed the frantic wave and terrified look on the official’s face. As an athletic trainer, we run out to injured athletes almost every day. Sometimes we are fortunate to witness the mechanism of injury and have an idea of what we are running to, but that day I was blinded. When I approached the athlete it was like nothing I have ever seen before. My heart stopped as I looked at the athlete lying face down on the wrestling mat with his right knee bent and his foot lying flat on the ground beside him. His knee had dislocated. Until that point, I had only seen this deformity and type of injury in pictures. My adrenaline immediately spiked. I had the athletic director on the phone with the

Ever since I was a little girl, I was always active. Whether it be running down the stairs, playing a sport or experimenting different dance classes, I was always moving. I started playing volleyball since I was eight but stopped when I was fourteen. Now, as a college freshman I’ve decided to start playing again, as a leisure activity.

A few minutes later a bus pulls up and the teams file out of them. Ms.Nino gives us our positions; I was to play in the second half of the game as forward. The game started and by the second half we were neck and neck. The ref blew the whistle for halftime and I was thrown in. This would be our second game, Emma and I were the focus of who would score what goal. I ran out and switched places with Marina. We had exactly one minute until the game started. ‘Deep breaths’ I thought. The whistle was blown and Emma passed the ball to me. The ball was passed to me and I was suddenly on the ground. The moment went in slow motion. In that instant my whole life would be changed. The sun was just beginning to set and the weather was perfect, the rest of the players moved passed me towards the ball. In that moment I looked down at my leg and screamed. My knee looked like something was trying to crawl out of my skin. The knee-cap had popped out of socket dislocating my knee. I didn’t know I could scream like that; nor did anyone else. The game was put on pause and my dad walked out onto the field in total calm. My dad had played rugby in his early years of college and had dealt with many injuries like this. He rolled me on my back and pulled my heel causing it to pop back into place. I couldn’t walk or even stand so I was carried to the sideline. I was sat in a chair with an icepack. Everyone on the girls soccer team was crying. Emma thought it had been her fault and I think everyone else was just freaked out. I wasn’t crying; a wave of harmoniousness had washed over me. It was as if nothing had happened and I hadn’t dislocated my knee. The game started again and I was in a haze, I watched without watching diving into my thoughts. Then all at once and harshly, the shock hit me. I began sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. A few people came to talk to me to try to make me feel better but I don’t remember what I said; I was more focused on