My Life Of Mermelada

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.

Back into the story of me when I was on the soccer team. Being on the team in the first year of high school brings lots of honor, as much as pressure. I have to show them that I have enough ability to play with people who are older than me. For that reason, I decided to train very hard in order to prepare for the city’s soccer league. I was always the first one who went to the training camp and the last one who left there. It was the first

My eyes flutter open to my alarm clock, which is sounding off the noise that tells me it is time to get ready. I jump out of bed, forgetting the ridiculously early time. I throw on my uniform, toss my hair up into a ponytail, and hurry down the stairs to get my water bottle ready. My stomach is in knots and my heart is racing. I force myself to take a few bites of an apple, but thats all I can stomach at the moment. My dad ready to go every Saturday, no matter the time. He has been at every soccer game since I was five years old. When we arrive at the field I run over to my coach, eager to start the game. The air is crisp and cool as it blows across my face. The grass glistens with early morning dew. As I run arose the field, I think there

“ Run Agatha, Run,” my mom and dad would yell to me as I ran the soccer ball down the field past other players. Soccer was my sport, it was what I was destined to do, if I wasn’t doing that I would not know where I would be in life. My mom had put me into this sport when I was only 4 years old and ever since then I couldn’t stop playing.I was the best on my team and getting a scholarship for my dedication and hard work. My siblings, Jennifer and Jonathan couldn’t be less interested in sports, let alone soccer. My family and I lived in a small apartment that consisted of 1 bedroom, 1 bathroom, a kitchen, and a little dining area. My siblings and I barely had anywhere to sleep and food was a problem. I wanted a better future for my family and so soccer was the answer to all my prayers.

Like always, Andrew and I decided to organize a few games of soccer after we get out of our Thursday afternoon cross country practice. Coach Leonard always had to keep an eye out for us because he knew we were the only two athletes that would do something as risky as that. But as most high school students we completely disobeyed our coach and met with friends to play.

September 14, 2007 became the best day of my life and the worst day of my life combined into one. During one of my high school soccer games, I had the realization that my passion for soccer could come to a screeching halt, not by choice, but by injury. Here is where that emotion filled day started. I worked so hard to earn my first starting game as a freshman goalkeeper, and on that cool autumn night, I finally got what I had been working hard for, that high school Varsity starting spot. Before every game, the announcer announced the starting lineup for each team in the stadium for all of the fans to hear. Hearing my name announced in my high school stadium for the first time felt like no feeling I have ever felt before. So much joy, anxiety,

After playing ball freshman and sophomore year, I began to lose motivation and love for the game. I began receiving less and less playing time and my confidence was being torn by the coaches. Throughout this time however, I had grown a love and appreciation for the sport of soccer. I had been playing informal pickup games on the weekends with friends. My parents encouraged me to try out for the team my sophomore

Soccer is something every kid plays, it’s the staple game of the world; but to me, soccer was more than just a childhood activity. Playing soccer has taught me many valuable lessons but the most important lesson was that it wasn’t about the trophy, it was about the practices, it was about the teammates. When the end of the season came around, it didn’t matter if we had won or not; we had grown as soccer players and as a team,

The program started on a crisp, fall afternoon in October. I climbed eagerly out of my car and stepped onto the damp grass of the Joyce soccer field. This complex had been my second home for the last seven years. All the blood, sweat, and tears I had put into training here, building up my skill set. I was snapped back into reality as my mom pulled out of the parking lot and back into the street. I waved goodbye and made my way

In Argentinian culture, soccer (football) is not only a sport, but a common passion that supports social gathering and interconnectedness amongst people from different backgrounds. Due to this, and the enjoyment this sport gives me, I have played competitive soccer my whole life. I worked tirelessly over many years and eventually, my hard work was acknowledged when I was scouted to be a trialist for the new professional soccer team, FC Edmonton. I knew this was my chance to finally make not only myself happy, but my parents proud. They sacrificed their hard-earned money, down time, and personal hobbies for my soccer endeavours.

Stoner had us partner up and pass the ball back and forth across the small field, with dead patches of yellowed grass and; snack wrappers that have lost their hue from all the rain. Moreover, I haven’t had the slightest drop of experience playing soccer, except for when I played with my uncle who could I compared to Lionel Messi the greatest soccer player ever. I didn't know who to pick, and I didn't have many friends who had played soccer before. Every direction I look I see everyone partnered up. My face turned red as cherries from embarrassment of not having a partner. However, I saw Asali and he became my partner. We watched the eighth graders pass the ball with the inside of their foot and mimicked their movements, but we couldn't get enough power to pass the ball 10 feet ahead of

The scene is set. It’s the last quarter and the star player is lined up for the kick. This is it; the deciding factor win or lose, triumph or defeat. Tension thrums through the crowd, hearts pound in throats, hands are clenched in anticipation, fear, hope. Then the kick is made, eyes strain and throats gasp as the ball sails through the air straight between the goal posts. All around the stadium and at home in front of the T.V. people erupt into screams and cheers of exultation. Strangers clap each other’s back and congratulate each other while behind them others howl in misery. They try to console each other and sigh, knowing that despite the hardships they suffered with grit and determination they had failed this time. Still there is always next season….

Sitting on the bench, I turned my jersey collar up to the cold and damp. It was year two and I was still sitting on the bench; I was ready for a change. I played on the school soccer team in my freshmen and sophomore years, however, I did not get much playing time. I was not alone. Many people on the team had been excluded from actual game play, and still more did not even make the team to begin with. It was clear that there were not enough options to play competitive team soccer in my school community.

Throughout the semester, I also began to develop an appreciation for soccer because of him. I only played soccer in kindergarten and wasn’t a fan of playing the game, but Diego grew up with the sport and wanted to keep playing despite our campus not having any sports. We were both athletic in high school and found soccer as a way to stay in shape and be competitive. Whether it be scrimmaging at the Bryant Park field or playing FIFA until 4 A.M., soccer was a way for us and our floor to bond. Our floor didn’t have a theme, but by the first month we turned the seventh floor into the FIFA floor because of us developing the same enjoyment for the

When Juan and his parents got home, he immediately went to his room to get his soccer ball. He was about to go outside and kick the ball around, but his parents stopped him. His parents told him to rest a couple of days, then he could play soccer, because of his leg. Juan started complaining that he was better, but his parents made him go to his room and rest. He went to his room and turned the television on. He turned to the soccer channel and started watching. He stayed in his room for the rest of the day. He started thinking about how it would be to play on a professional team, he thought that he would love