Personal Narrative: One Game Of Basketball

“Bang,” yelled the crowd in unison. We fed off the cheering and screaming home crowd. We used their cheers as our energy. We kept on going. From somewhere in the crowd, I heard someone yell, “come on guys, you’re only down one now.” A harsh realization dawned on me. For all of the glory in the three pointer we just made, we were still losing, and we only had 11 seconds to change that. Inbound, foul; within seconds, their team was at the free throw line shooting two free throws. “The first free throw is…good.” A hush fell over the home crowd. Everyone knew what that meant. It meant that now, the only way to win the game is by the means of another three pointer, and that is only if he misses this next shot. If not, our only chance is to tie the game with a three

Basketball was a new experience to me a few years ago, but i never realized I was going to love it. When I was younger, I’ve always wanted to play the sport of basketball, and I got my opportunity to play when I was in fifth grade at Monte Vista Elementary.

When I was younger, basketball was all I wanted to play, it just looked like so much fun. In fifth grade I had my parents sign me up for CYB, then in sixth grade I tried out for middle school basketball and played all the way up until ninth grade. In middle school when I was in eighth grade I was awarded the captain position and that helped me build leadership and responsibility. All of the players especially the younger ones knew they could always come to me at any time if they needed anything or help with anything. High school basketball was a lot different than middle school. In middle school I was one of the star players so I played a lot but in high school that changed. I sat the bench a lot that taught me patience and understanding even

“Are you interested in this?” , my dad asks multiple times about multiple sports. I as a four year old just learning about sports, and watching them with my family decide that basketball is for me. So I go on to rec league… I learn how to dribble, pass, and shoot. Time passes and by middle school I can shoot left-handed layups, cross-over behind my back and in between my legs. High school is here.. and I become even more advanced not just with fundamentals, but mentally, and even more aggressively, and physical. I have a purpose, I love the game, and I want to play it as long as I can.

I fell in love with basketball 7 years ago. What began as a few trial trainings gradually grew into a deep passion for the sport. I realized that I had the flair for it as doing moves like layups came to me very naturally. All I had to do was to observe my coach do an example once, practice the move a few times, and I got it.

For a majority of people in the world, if they were to wake up with 350 million dollars, and would be able to be fully retired by 38 years old, then they would be very content and happy with their lives. Being able to wake up every day in a big mansion, lying with your family by the poolside, not worrying about financial issues for yourself or loved ones, and lastly having the great opportunity for you and your whole family, to not work a day the rest of your lives. It is an ideal situation that approximately 99.99% of people would want. But, an outlier, challenges those astonishing odds, by using their influence and popularity, to help out and make a difference. Not

“Girls, I want you to run this new play,” He demanded, while he got down on one knee and began to scribble something foreign on his clipboard. My head was spinning, I was exhausted, irritated, and distracted. We huddled, then sprinted back out to the court. We continued to fumble the ball around and attempt to block the layups the other team was scoring. The buzzer boomed and echoed across the lifeless gym. We jogged over to the bench, yet Coach Foley had no words.

You step on the court and you hear the crowd buzzing. “Give it Wilt, Give it to Wilt”. You feed off the energy that's coming from the crowd and it's time to go. 4th quarter starts. Your teammates give you the ball every possession as the crowd is going wild! You score and you score again and again and again you can't miss and finally, 48 seconds left, you get the ball, the crowds starts to stand, knowing that this might be the one! You back your man down in the paint, you put up a hook shoot …….. Swish! You hit the shot, the crowd loses it, you did it, 100 points, the new points scored in a single game record!! You sprint into the locker room, the assistant coach writes 100 on a piece of paper, gives it to you and you smile and look at the camera! 100 points!

Basketball has been the passion of my life since I was 4 years old. I've always had a competitiveness or desire to not lose. That's why my sophomore year of high school was the worst, but best year of my life. As a freshman I was on JV and had tremendous success. The next year I anticipated a starting varsity role. I couldn't wait, expecting a year even better than the last. All the success I had as a freshman didn't translate as smoothly.

On any given sunny day, when flowers were blooming, and grass was growing, there was a game of basketball being played. I sat on my auntie’s porch watching the older teenagers and sometimes adults fearlessly tackle the game as if they were playing for the world championship or at least the national title. The only title gained was bragging rights for the rest of the day. Despite the horrible language, the twisted ankles, and sometimes busted lips, the players continued to show up daily to compete. Although I was a tad bit scrawny for my age, I desperately and eagerly wanted to join the game. I knew then I wanted to learn the sport, and it wasn’t long before I began to do so. Eventually, basketball became a passion as well as therapy for me. Every day, I dreamed of being the next Maya Moore or Skylar Diggins. Although that dream never came to be, my love of the sport continues. There are many players who agree that basketball helped them just by being on the team. Others swear that they learned to make better decisions in their lives because they played the sport as youths. Some experts even suggest that

The cool thing about humans, is no two are exactly the same, every one is different in their own way. We’re all defined in unique ways, some by their jobs, some by their livelihood, or interests such as basketball. This is one of my favorite things to do in life, there's just nothing better than setting foot on that court. When basketball season starts to roll around, memories from past years come flooding in. Being able to smell the freshly popped popcorn all throughout the gym. Looking up at the crowd and seeing everyone in the stands cheering us on, arguing with refs about a call, or not really paying attention to the game at all. The feeling I get when I’m on the court is second to nothing. This is where I go when I need need to just get away and think.

Basketball time. Halfway through the season. It was game night. I was nervous. I always got nervous for basketball games. So after school I’m getting all my stuff ready and I’m putting on my basketball uniform. I had to get fired up. So I listened to some Kanye West. Ok. I was ready. My mom drove me to my game. I put my bag in the locker room. I go out on the court and warm up with the other girls. I’m getting even more nervous. BUUZZZ. That’s the buzzer. Time to go bring it in. Our coach talks to us and tells us the play to run first. I wasn’t a starter or anything. So I sat on the bench waiting to go in. The jump ball had started. Our team got the ball. During half of the first quarter, Coach told me to go in. I went in. I did my part and I played ok.

An all time favorite activities of me to do and to watch is basketball. Basketball is something I relish because it's exciting and really affecting, I started playing when I was in fourth grade. When I became attentive in basketball it was because I was trying out sports that year and I determine I admired it and really, enjoying it. Basketball is something my dad, and my brother plays, too. My brother and I try to practice, and learn from each other when we both have the time to practice.

It seemed as if we were running in circles until suddenly I stopped running just outside the three point line. Suddenly open, the pass was thrown to me and the clock started. Sweat dripping, I hoisted up the shot just before a body of players converged on me. The moment the shot left my hand, I knew it would go in. I turned around, shocked at how we had come back from what was surely defeat. I marveled at how we were able perform such an unforgettable feat. I turned back around just in time to view my shot sink through the net as if the net was nonexistent. The crowd exploded. Then, reality dawned on me. “We won,” I shrieked as loud as possible. Immediately I rushed over to the bench and my waiting teammates before dunking the whole carton of Gatorade on Coach Drew. It felt as if it were a dream. Of course, before celebrating, we went to go thank the other team for such a wonderful game. As soon as we did that, the party was

Standing on that rugged practice field on a brisk Friday night, I begin to feel my nerves clench inside my rushing body. Looking to my right, the cheers of the crowd congratulate the younger boys as they stroll off the field. The bright lights glow beyond the ginormous section of bleachers and ancient trees. Lining up on the curb, the drumline pounds a beat that sends chills down my spine. My team strides down Prospect street at the heels of the drums. No words are said, as I tune into the scratchy, clicking sound of my shining white, size-twelve cleats making contact with the car-lined road.