Personal Narrative: Locker Room

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

What is victory? What is failure? How do we know what state we’re truly in? In “Locker Room Talk” Stephen Dunn explores the conception of men boasting about their sexual encounters alongside women and persuades the audience boastful men who are presenting their victory of not yielding to the attractiveness and capability of women by not falling in love have actually failed through rhetorical strategies such as purpose, audience, and genre; pathos, logos, and ethos; and angle of vision. Dunn supports his stance on the journal by providing evidence and examples that emphasize the fear of falling in love to the general audience. Moreover, Dunn persuades the general audience through a reasonable, emotional, and credible approach on why men boast about their sexual encounters alongside women such as “Frankie made it sound dirty, something great you do with a bad girl” (Dunn, Locker Room Talk) and “A young man was telling his friend what he did to this particular young woman the night before, and what she did to him” (Dunn, Locker Room Talk). From Dunn’s angle of vision, even though boastful men feel victorious in their effort to not fall in love Dunn experiences sympathy for their actions as portrayed at the end of the passage “He thought we’d be happy for him” (Dunn, Locker Room Talk).

I have never felt more nervous than in the locker room before my region game in Pierre to advance to the state tournament. My teammates and I were gathered in the locker room before the game like we usually are, but this was different. The feeling of knowing that this was our last chance of going to the state tournament and playing for a championship was on the line. I remember it was so quite. I had headphones on, and so many thoughts were traveling my mind. The music blasting in my ears was a blur and all I could hear was my own heart beating. Coach Gardner entered the room and had the coaching staff with him preparing to give his pregame speech. After he relieved some of our stress and nerves, we were ready. We broke down the huddle and jogged down the dark hall to the court. I will never forget walking onto the court hearing the screeching cheers and seeing the sea of purple on one side of the court and red on the other.

Chills run down my spine as I put on my cleats to complete my uniform. During our warm ups I try and clear my mind and enjoy the music but I can’t even accomplish doing that. 30 minutes go by like it is nothing and I already hear the referee calling for the captains to do the coin toss right before the game is about to begin.

There is one place where I go to when I have any problems. Stress leaves my body when I’m here. It’s also a place where I can go to make myself stronger, faster and better at sports. It allows me to get stronger and live a healthy lifestyle. This wonderful place of meeting my goals is the weight room.

With my eyes glued to the ball. Just waiting for the center to snap it to the quarterback I made sure my cleats were dug in and ready to go. As the center moved the ball I charged forward shoving the center out of the way and slamming my shoulder into the quarterback and taking him down before he had a chance to blink. After the play, there was time to think to myself about the past week, the events that had transpired, the important decision I had made, and about that one sunny day at practice.

It felt as I was walking for the first time again. I felt so unsteady. I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know how high my standards were going to be. My first game to start was arguably my worst football game ever played. Over and over, I snapped the ball, threw it to my intended target, and I saw the other team come down with it. Every throw I began trembling. I had anxiety, questioning my future career. This was expected, I had no proper coaching, no fundamental technique, and my genuine mechanics were nonexistent. After those few unforgettable games, I had learned from my mistakes and started my development as a

With a score of 44 to 37, the Varsity Football Team won against the Midway Panthers last Friday night at Waco.

I recall arriving at the first game. The opposing team, although small, were almost two times my size. They looked intimidating, but I did not let judgement cloud my mind. When huddled together, our coach spoke to us, telling the team that we is what we practiced for, that the other team did not practice as hard as we did, even though he had no knowledge of the opposing team’s practice was. As he continued to intensify our spirits, a fire sparked amongst my companions. The plays flourished throughout my brain. I felt confident. Before I knew it, a whistle blew and I was fast forwarded onto the field

I woke up and took one bite out of my pop tart but that one bite was all I could eat. My legs were shaking, and my heart was pounding. My dad told me, “It is a true honor to even make it this far so go out there and have some fun.” Once I heard this statement, I knew I was ready to go. I arrived at school and boarded the bus. The car ride was an hour and fifteen minutes of hearing the squeaking of the wheel on the bus. My teammates were getting their heads ready for the big game.

Entering the venue of the game the crowd was already electric. As I look up I see our massive student section chanting fight songs and other cheers. Parents and staff members were smiling ear to ear chanting along with the student section trying to help get us ready to take on our opponent. As warm ups started the atmosphere became more and more intense as the countdown went on. Looking over at my teammates close to me we all look focused on getting the job done. Not one of us were

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.

I arrived at practice with my shoes laced, hair pulled back, and the mindset that I was unstoppable. I could play against every member of my team and come out the victor on any given day. It was the first day of practice that week, and challenge matches were scheduled to begin. The team went through our daily shuffle of drills, conditioning, and running to prepare for what was lying ahead. While warming up with my friends, I felt great, talking about homecoming, boys, and a variety of irrelevant events. I felt ready. The odds were in my favor and nobody could stop me.

A tapering man which is my supervisor with exchange looks, chiseled face, auburn hair, with flamboyant style waiting for me to start working in the backroom. A backroom, an ancient looking place with a lively crowded environment. During winter time this place turns into a cold frosty place because it doesn’t have central heater system. And during summer time people are soaked with sweat, and that place smell like A loading dock with a 18 wheeler truck with a tough look eagerly waiting to get unload. This reminds me of my parents, promptly waiting for me to return home before sun is down.