Personal Narrative: Failure In Football

I was nine-years old in 1952, and it was on a brisk August Sunday afternoon when my Dad took me to my very first 49ers game at Kezar Stadium for an exhibition contest against the Cardinals, from Chicago. As I remember the weather was overcast and the temperature a cool 60 degrees.

It was a nice day so I wanted to see if my friends could play, I rode my bike to Alex and Tony’s house. I got to the door and rang the bell.

Football is a game of passion, a time when nothing else matters and the only thing that matters is going out there having fun and fighting for the guy next to you. Football has always been something that I loved and had a wild passion for. I’ve made friendships and memories to last a life time and I can always be grateful that football did that for me. Now of course I’ve had some bad memories during football as well, I remember walking out of the film room on the last day of spring ball and having Coach Antle grab me and say “Gage, I think I want to try you at a new position, I want to put you at defensive end. We need you more there and we think you can really excel there.” I remember being so furious, I had played linebacker ever since I could remember and now the last day of spring ball my senior year everything was about to change.

It was just another school night in the seventh grade. Our recreational tackle football team had a practice at 730pm until 9. It was a very swampy night and from that I felt myself very sluggish. At the time, I was a backup running back. I was always left on the sidelines facing the chills of the cold wind during games. I typically didn’t get to see much playing time on the field, but that night I got my opportunity. I was receiving kicks during a punting audition and all I was doing was catching the ball and throwing it back, nothing unique. One throw after another, my coach began to praise my arm strength. Seeing me pass the ball was a true eye-opener. That night, I went from a backup running back, to the starting quarterback of my rec

Football is back as the first preseason game was played last Thursday. With football coming back, so does fantasy football. Like a lot of people (myself included), you’re scouring the internet for rankings. There’s plenty of rankings out there, but none of them tell you where to take a defense. I am going to present my strategy.

My stomach tightened. I had never played free safety before. The ball was snapped, and I watched as the tailback widened out to receive the pitch. Never had I felt such an adrenaline rush.

His little legs churned as fast as they could driving him straight at his opponent. I sensed Matthew wasn’t too sure of himself since he had never expressed any confidence playing our football games or in practices; but this time, the young defender responsible for guarding him was smaller, and Matt had the advantage. He staccato stepped and faked running to the right just as we had planned. His opponent accepting the feigned shift, ran in the misdirection. Suddenly, Matt was all alone in the end-zone; and the football, a perfectly thrown pass designed for Matt, was spiraling toward his small opened hands. The ball hit his palms and bounced skyward, but Matt quickly reached up and grabbed the football securing his touchdown. The families in the stands cheered, and Matt returned to the sideline with a smile and a little more confidence. I coach Matt’s third grade 7 on 7 football team, and this is my third year of competitive football league coaching. Coaching is a luxury I afford myself with my limited free time, and it brings me a lot of satisfaction.

Football has been a big part of my life for as long as I could remember. Ever since I was in 2nd grade football has been my passion. Currently, I stand at 6”8, 260 pounds and I play right tackle for the Fayetteville Bulldogs. Football has shaped me up to the young man I am today and helped me get through the most tragic moment in my life.

This is probably the most popular and used play in football. This play requires that the running back runs off the outside hip of the tackle.

I could hear it, the bell, signaling a touchdown. Except this time it wasn’t one of my teammates, it was me. Oh how I had dreamt about hearing that bell it was the ultimate sensory experience. I knew at that moment that there was a reason you never stopped believing you could do something.

The chills creep up my spine, uncomfortably I notice every single person there was watching my every move. We were going head-to-head with the Vikings, they did very well at intimidating our team to death, but inside I knew we could try. They had some tall buffy people that didn't seem afraid that our dignity was high and on the line. We couldn't waste it here, right now. Next, a loud Screech the referee blew her whistle, and at that moment we knew it was time. We played as if it was the Olympics, even though it was just for fun.Then, the ball went all over the court back and forth meanwhile the crowd screaming, cheering, and excitedly saying, “Go Huskies!”

From gaming to the field be sure to always be on my team, I'm not afraid to lead us to victory and push you to your full potential. If you know me at all you would know I'm a team player just look at what I play. I play sports that involve a team not just myself. I love being team leader but I’m always ok if someone else wants to be in charge. Who I am is someone who isn’t afraid to lead but won't support the next guy to lead because I want to strive to make the greatness show in others.

Stepping onto the field, all eyes on me, the crowd chanting, “block that kick! block that kick!”. That’s the only thing I remember from our 25-22 loss over Sun Valley my sophomore year. As a kicker on the football team you have a hard job. It is 10% physical and 90%mental. Having the teams trust is a real confidence boost, but after that night, I wasn’t sure if I had that anymore. Crying, a quiet locker room, not being able to sleep, all of the sad faces. That’s not what the end of a football game is supposed to look like. “Maybe I’ll get over it”, I asked myself. Little did I know this would help shape the future of not only my football career but also life in

sports or how to play it and how they think wer are sensitive, overemotional, and useless plastic barbies that sit still, and look pretty all day. We all decided to play some sport. What sport? American football, not soccer.

Under the spotlight, drenched in sweat with a deafening crowd raging in my ears. I was down by two points with thirty seconds left until I was faced with failure, I had to act fast. “SHOOT”, those were the only words I could translate from the crowd, so I took the shot, pummeled my opponent, striking like a python on its prey. I had scored, but it was only enough to tie. The buzzer sounded off, I knew that I had only won one battle and the war was not yet over. We were now in overtime both on the verge of exhaustion. Deep down inside I knew that if I didn't win, disappointment would come upon by my teammates, and coaches heavily depending on me to bring them victory. The whistle blew, signaling the start of the next gruesome battle. My plan