Personal Narrative : A Hockey Game

Second year as an Under-10 Squirt level hockey player for the New Jersey Colonials ice hockey team proved to be a challenging and harrowing experience that shaped the course of my future hockey career. I was a determined, naïve child with fantasies of playing in the NHL when I grew older. The source of my troubles began with Coach Ruben, a relentless, unforgiving hockey coach. Coach Ruben was in charge of determining the AAA hockey team that I desperately wanted to make. Unfortunately, I would not have that opportunity. My mom, compassionate and sympathetic, guided me through the confusing maze of anger and depression. My dad, a coach and former hockey player, gave me valuable, supportive advice that would change my hockey expectations and

My heart was pounding like an elephant walking as I waited in line, although I wasn’t even really that nervous. In my head I knew it was going to be hard to make the team as a 6th grader I think that’s why I didn't get myself all worked up about it and nervous because there was a 50% chance of me making the team. In my head, I said to myself that I would love to make the team.

We started to move, going to my first championship game in a couple of years. It was a short ten minute drive to the rink, we got onto the highway, and we were greeted by traffic. I thought to myself, “Great, now i'm going to be late.” So my dad sped up and weaved in and out of the traffic, trying to rush me to my game. We finally got out of the traffic and I arrived to the rink. I got out of the car, blasting my music in my ears. Grabbing my bag, I tripped and got my pants dirty and wet with snow. Something bad happened again, I ignored it because I was trying to focus on the game. I walked inside the rink and I could smell and feel the cold ice. One of my teammates came up and said what locker room we are in. I followed him to the locker room and grabbed a spot in the corner and started to get my warm up clothes

In the words of Ralph Strangis, (Former Play-by-Play commentator for the Dallas Stars) “Every season, for every team the goal is to be better. To take what has already been laid in place and to build around that foundation and to take the next step however you define it. Longterm success never comes quickly and the road to get there is uneven and unpredictable“

The boys walk onto the field like a group of soldiers. The dark rubbery turf causes the Irondale Boys lacrosse team to stand out in their satin maroon and gold jerseys. Nothing could break their concentration. Their brows furrowed with anticipation for what awaits them. Within minutes the boys will be battling the other team to take home the bragging rights that go with winning. Although lacrosse does not rank highly in popularity, it is one of the greatest sports. The lacrosse boys confirmed that watching the game does not compare to the thrill of actually partaking in a game. Lacrosse is one of the more underrated sports, but it should not be.

I do not get surprised easily, but when I scored my first lacrosse goal, I was pretty shocked. I have considered myself as a decent lacrosse player; however, I did not score a single goal in my first season. Similar to my first season, my second season started out with me struggling get open and score goals. Fortunately, as the season progressed, I started to learn how to get open and get pass my defender. All of this came to fruition when I scored my first goal. It was the first quarter and our opponent had just turned the ball over. Our team was able to clear the ball past the midfield line, so I dropped into my designated position around ten feet away from the goal. Strikingly, the midfielder with the ball saw me open and passed it to me.

It was a dark thursday night in April. The sky was clear enough to see the moon shining brightly along with many small circular diamonds. I’m in a dark blue Avalanche, being driven to a baseball diamond. I play for the MIlwaukee Brewers on a little league level. It’s my last game of the season, and I can’t wait for the umpire to say the words “Play Ball” (which states that the game has begun).

My first Opening season game was two years ago at the Blues Hockey stadium in ST. Louis Mo. It was a cold day, The sun was barely shining and I had just got to ST. Louis driving thru the city making our way to the hockey rink. The traffic was horrible and not safe there was tons of people walking on the streets trying to get to that game. When we finally got there we pulled into the parking garage and got out the car after we did that we put on our jerseys and went to the side of the garage and watched tons of people rolling in and not to mention the band that was there. After the band was done we went inside and found our seats when we got there we had an unlimited buffet of food to eat, I had chicken tenders, hot chocolate, soda, and hot

In my four years of playing hockey for Bishop Dwenger we had never lost as many games as last year. Being a junior came with responsibilities; I was an upperclassman and I had to prove that I could turn all of my hard work into a successful season for my team. After losing so many games, I began to feel like a failure to my team. Not only this, but I was also the captain. This meant that I had even more responsibilities.

"Lakshita, you are up next, keep cradling your stick and make sure you do not let the ball fall out of your net!"

It was record breaking temperatures on this July 4th day. Red, white, and blue filling up the stands. Fans and umbrellas protecting spectators from the heat of the sun. It was about game time and I was getting ready to take the field for the last home game. Butterflies in my stomach, but I had to tell myself “it’s just another game”. Even though in my heart I knew it was not just another game.

It all started at 2, when my father bought me skates, and made a skating rink in my backyard. Then, I got into the sport, which at 6, I was nationally known, and people were lining up for autographs at 10, had interviews for magazines at 15, 17 he was in the WHA, then the NHL the year later. It was fast, how I moved through my life, but I couldn’t think of a life different life like it.

It was cloudy in the late morning, which meant even the weather didn’t look promising, Even more optimistically looking it seemed like the clouds were about to rupture into trillions of droplets each one a part of me about to shatter from humiliation. And obviously rain and humidity were the best conditions for field hockey. The building looked more downcast than I’d ever seen it, and when my dad parked the car it became more evident that this was not going to go as faultlessly as I hoped it would.

Walking toward the rink we could here the loud roar of the opposing crowds, chanting back and forth at each other. The arena was extremely cold, which made our muscles tighten up like a

I slide on the 0 degree ice turning with my toepick deep in the frozen water, I jump up unsure if I can land but manage to come down perfectly. My coach praised me as I skated toward her, a mile long grin lay on my face. “I finally did it!” I thought “I finally learned how to do a trick on Ice Skates.” In March, my teacher, Mr. Kopacz, gave us a month long project to make yourself better. The project consisted on two goals, one for inside of school goal and the second for an outside of school goal.