Personal Narrative: A Life Changing Experience At A Basketball Team

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

“Come on guys,” I yelled. I heard the screech of the referee’s whistle. Rushing to the bench, I heard the referee call out “Timeout, Heat.” Everything was on the line and our team’s championship hopes, being foremost on our team’s minds, was all coach could scream about. “I’m not going to tell you how to play basketball,” he yelled out. “That’s your job. I’m just going to say that right now, to us, this is a championship game. If we win this, we move on to the championship. If not, at least let us fall valiantly.” That got the whole team riled up as we rushed back onto the court. The crowd, encouraging as always, yelled out their approval on the fact that we were giving it our all. With just sixteen seconds left in the game and our team down by four, something special had to happen or we were done for the season.

My emotions were slowly building up throughout the day. Adrenaline was running through my body from excitement as I walked towards the locker room, which we called the clubhouse. I arrived at the front door to be greeted by music and some teammates changing into their uniforms. I slowly walked to my locker when it suddenly hit me… we’re in the semi-regional finals. The thought staggered me as I stood there staring at my lightly stained uniform. All the noise muffled out of my mind as I’m trying to focus. I snap back to reality as I hear my coach calling my name. He simply hands me the folded American flag as if it’s almost routine. Putting up the America flag has been my unofficial job for home games. Once the flag is up I make my way back to the clubhouse, pick up my gear and stroll down to

Our 8th grade basketball team were putting on a show! Opponents would enter bobcat territory where our team would play a hard fight to take another win. Every game spectators are left in astonishment after witnessing determination, willingness, and our spirit until the clock expires down to its last second.

The team got laced up their shoes and were ready to play. We sat in a circle on the green carpet in the locker room and prayed. We listened to the song “Lord, I need you”, and there was not a dry eye in the room. Everyone was praying that God would give us the strength and courage to pull off this win. Coach came in the dark, clammy locker room and the silence turned to chaos when she said, “It is game time ladies.” We all rose to our feet and did our pump up. I could not catch my breath. My eardrums were busted and my heart beating out of my chest. This game was it. The moment that I have been waiting for since I started

I grew up as an older sibiling who really had no one to express myself with. There are kids who live in secluded areas or just don't have the social skills to find other friends. Organized activites changed my perspective as a young child on how to actually have fun with my other peers. I personally liked playing basketball and was quite decent at the sport, I quickly developed friends who enjoyed the sport as much as I did. After awhile I started hanging out with a variety of different kids who were mutual friends between my friends and I.

“JV Defense” yelled our coach, with time ticking down in the final quarter of the championship game. We were playing in the championship game against Portsmouth. We were both good, but we were better. We had played them twice that year, we won one and they won the other. We were in the locker room and about to walk onto the field. We walked onto the massive field, and as I looked around at the giant stadium with “tons” of fans in it. I could feel the stadium closing in on me.

It was halftime and the score is 13-6. We are losing. It’s the first time all year that we have ever been losing at half time. As I look around the locker room, I can see that many of my teammates are distraught. I could smell the sour stench of sweat radiating off of everyone's pads. It was deathly silent in the locker room. Nobody wanted to be the first to speak up. Finally our team leader, Joe Scolari, spoke up. I could see where his face paint had been smeared across his face due to sweat. His jersey was caked with mud and he was bleeding from his right arm.

“Friday night games with huge crowds. That atmosphere is hard to beat.” Senior Hunter Martin is playing through his fourth and final year on the Varsity basketball team. For two years in a row, he has been the starting foward. “Basketball hasn’t always been easy but I’m really glad I stuck through it all four years,” Martin said. Looking back on his accomplishments, Martin said that his favorite memory was was win the team won districts his sophomore year. “Nothing can compare to that moment of celebrating with my team.”

After years of basketball taking up most of my time, I knew that at some point I was going to need to stop. What I did not know, was when that time was going to come. This past year, I have made the bold choice to stop playing. If I played one more year, I felt as if it might ruin basketball for me. Basketball has always been the way I was able to forget about everything going on around me and just focus on one positive thing.

Nothing was going well: the cool breeze caused us to “spray the ball” over the fence, the obnoxious football players frightened me with their persistent cry for help, the tennis balls’ freshness and pristine presence quickly vanished. As I glanced over, I saw a slender body, with speckles of gray bellowing at us, slowly trotting over with a blank expression. I was thinking, “Aw man, he’s gonna come over here and yell at us or tell us the same old “give me 110%” or “stay focused.’” A Northwestern graduate (wise beyond his years) , a basketball and tennis player (athletically gifted) , our coach’s words enchanted us with delight and captivated our attention. With a grin on his pale pink face and a sparkle in his glimmering eyes, he let out an optimistic sigh while saying, “You guys just gotta battle. I don’t care about the score anymore. Just gotta love the battle no matter what

Running into the gym with my team, knowing it was my last middle school basketball game, but first championship game I felt elated and truly blessed. My knees quivered with anticipation after seeing all the bleachers filled with people. After realizing even the press and other media was in attendance I grasped the moment like a newly elected president at his inauguration. I am warming up doing basketball drills, when I began to look at the flags on the gym wall depicting the history of the basketball team. The years and dates of the last championship game, Historically a championship game had not been won since 2007 . The more I stared at the flags, the more it made me want to win this game and make history in this gym. As the crowd and cheerleaders start to chant, cheer and get loud, I started to feel more comfortable and rowdy more than I had ever felt in any other game that I’ve played. Waiting for the referee to blow the whistle for jumpall to start. I felt my fingertips tapping the side of my leg, which for some reason gives me a sign to myself that I am pumped up and ready to play!

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.

I looked up at the scoreboard and the time read 8 minutes left. As I looked at the scoreboard I felt a jolt of energy enter my body. I had felt as if a fire was lit under me. My eyes opened as if I had just seen a ghost. I remember thinking to myself, “how can we lose this game?” I made a promise to myself that I would win 4 state titles while being at Battlefield High School. This was my sophomore year of high school and I had already won one state title, how could I give up now and let my dreams be crushed, I worked too hard for that to happen. In that moment I knew there was only one result I was going to walk off the field with, and that was with a win and another State Championship. I took a deep breath and thought to myself, “My team needs energy. They need a leader.”