My Mom Really Wanted An Athlete

2015 Words9 Pages
My Mom Really Wanted an Athlete For someone who frequently jokes about hating sports, I sure do have a lot of medals. Growing up, I was constantly involved in one, if not more, sports at a single time. I couldn 't seem to stick to one sport, however. My participation in some lasted far longer than in others, but I either eventually grew uninterested or put another extracurricular first, leaving another behind. Below is a list some of the sports in which I was involved, in reverse order based on how much I cared about them. Basketball: I was on a team with my younger sister. She kept picking up the ball and running away. Soon, we were asked to leave. This ended my days on a basketball team. Karate: I did this in first grade. I…show more content…
I actually wasn 't terrible. One day, a coach told me I was improving so much that I would be moved from the Beta class to Gamma. They did not, however, direct me to where that class was being held. I figured the class I found first must be the right one. As it turns out, I had just added myself to the Delta class. After stumbling through a class on back-crossovers, the coach realized I was in the wrong place. However, he decided that I was good enough to stay. Unfortunately, I was also playing soccer and going to hebrew school at this time. When it came time to choose what to drop, ice skating went. Softball: This was another example of me following a friend into a sports team I had no business being on. Thinking back on it, my softball career should have hinted that I would return to theatre, as I spent far more time leading cheers and singing in the dugout then I did succeeding on the field. I prided myself on not being the worst on the team. My favorite example as to why I should not play softball was an incident that happened during a game. At the time, I did not realize that the sun blocking the ball as you reach up to catch it was an actual thing, rather than just existing in movies. And yet, I found myself standing at second base, mitt in the air attempting to catch a ball I could not see. The ball, of course, did not land in my mitt but rather hit me in the head causing me to momentarily black out. I came to a few seconds later with
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