Personal Narrative: Paintball

It was a hot summer day in Hammond, Louisiana and I was pouring down sweat like I had just jumped in a pool. The game was just about to begin, me and my team was eagle eyeing the bomb squad. It was so quiet that you could hear your own sweat hitting the bench. The umpire broke up everyone’s concentration by saying, “play ball”! The defense had ran out on the field and I started rolling ground balls from 2nd to short-stop to third base. They had all made good throws back to me and then I threw the ball into the dug-out because the game had begun.

One friday afternoon I had a friend Anna come over to my house to stay the night. Me and Anna and also my mom were all watching movies and eating pizza. Well my family is full of boy’s so we like to have nerf gun wars.

The heat bears down on me, as I feel my skin burning in the hot summer sun. Dust and dirt floats around the air and a thin layer of grime covers my entire body. Sweat drips around my goggles while adrenaline fills my body and my heart races. In the middle of nowhere in Virginia, I feel at home, I feel the turf under my cleats and the cool metal of the stick in my hands. As the timer ticks down, the buzzer rings, and the game begins. I look to my left and see my dad sitting on the sideline, ready to cheer as loud as possible. To my right I find my teammates, the most loyal group of friends I have, ecstatic about the potential of winning.

Ever since I was 8 years old, lacrosse has been my life. My teammates are my family, the field is my home, and the game is a huge part of who I am. When I was 12 and entering middle school I decided it was time to join a more serious team with other guys like me, that share my passion for the sport. I ended up joining an "alright" team with a bunch of "alright" players. After a few seasons with them, I realized I wasn't challenging myself and playing up to my potentional. My parents and I decided it was time for me to take it to the next level and join one of the most prestigiuos boys lacrosse travel teams on Long Island; the Long Island Outlaws.

I was on the little pee wee team called the Panthers. I was only 10 years old when I first started playing for the team. At first when joining the team I was doubtful on whether or not I would be good enough to play. That moment when Coach Smith called my name I knew it was time. During that first game we were playing against the Cubs. I was wearing number 95. Then all of a sudden I found myself at the line of defense; shaking full of nerves. This was my first time on the field with a team; a team that had my back and knew that I had theirs. My family came out to my game to support me. At first that was all I could focus on was them shouting my name. I had to focus, I hit my helmet to get myself in the zone; I had seen the professional football players do that on TV so I took a chance and tried it out. I was bent over, mouth guard in, and saliva dripping out, I even growled to

We were dumping tea off the boat and I saw the soldiers. Then I said run and we all were jumping into boats and running on the docks. Luckily no one was caught.They looked for us and the days went by before we could leave our

It was dead silent as the ball sat in the air and as if time had stopped. It was December of 2015, I was 13, my team and I was playing for 3rd place in the Colt Classic Tournament. It was a night game at Barrington Station High School. We were playing the Barrington Colts, which was weird considering they are playing for 3rd in their own tournament that they were hosting, before the game, I was talking to some of my teammates Aaron Pattis, Stephen Harris, Bradley Jenkins, Ayden Anderson and I were talking before the game, going into that game we speculated that we had this game in the bag easily as a result of how well our team was playing. Little did we know, we had another problem coming.

We were all bored and were all wondering for something to do and then my friend said “lets go ding-dong-ditching”. We all thought that was going to be fun and a good idea. We were all discussing on what house to get.Then we all went to one house and they made me ring the doorbell. With a lot of hesitation I finally rang the doorbell and we all ran and hid as quickly as possible.

I threw the first pitch and 5 minutes later “Strike 3,” the ump said! I was 0-2 with an RBI and I pitched 4 inning shutout. The next day we played at 10:00 and 2:00. I woke up and got ready. We were late to leave.

Thirteen years ago at our old house on Heritage Blvd on the fourth of July my mother got sick, so instead of our usual Fourth of July tradition of popping fireworks at our grandmothers house, we were stuck at home. The plan was to wait until our mother felt better to go pop fireworks, so like good children, my brothers and I nodded our heads and went off to play, and that lasted for about maybe twenty minutes before we got bored. My brothers Colten and Tyler had the bright idea to steal the fireworks and walk around the neighborhood, and I being about six at the time thought this was the best idea in the world. I looked up to my brothers, and they were older and smarter than me so I did not see the harm in going for a walk around the block and popping off some firecrackers. We did not think anyone would care, and we were completely wrong.

I was in a group called Beta Club. We were all at a camp called Sound To Sea. It was time for the camp fire. Fourth and fifth graders surrounded the growing fire in the pit. My friends and I were standing up on the benches screaming “You can’t ride in my little red wagon”, with everybody repeating that chant back to us. I was so excited to spend time with all my best friends. And trust me you could tell I was excited by the smile on my face. As the chants grew

I was only 18 and it was my birthday and I was sitting around a table with my family and I was handed a fortune cookie and it read this" "Your life is in danger. Say nothing to anyone. You must leave the city immediately and never return. Drive straight to the old farm the top of the hill, there you will find

My job included cleaning paintball equipment before the company opened. Handing out paintball equipment to customers as they paid for them. Making sure every customer acquired their desired gear. After every customer had what they needed and they were ready to go play some paintball. I would gather up a group of fifteen to thirty people and direct them to the paintball course that we would be playing on. I would interact with each individual making sure all of their gear was working properly, and also ask if they were having an enjoyable experience. I would start the matches, call people out when they got hit, and also end the paintball matches when either the time was up or everyone from one team got eliminated. Then when the party was all

It was a cool summer evening, my friends joined me in a paintball game that evening. Out of the five of us four were decent shots. Kenny could hit a target three feet away. “Kenny at this rate you’ll just be dragging us down.” James told him in an abrasive manner. “Not to be rude, but James is right Kenny.” I said to him trying to be nice. He is usually a puerile person, but our comment put a dour look on his face.

Wow, I had totally forgotten how much I love batting cages," I shouted to no one in particular. Cindy and her sister were buying tickets so we could play miniature golf next. it dawned on me that playing real sports was more fun than playing them on the computer. I felt as if someone had locked me up and kept me away from all real, fun things. Then I realized that the person who locked me up was me. I felt silly. it's fun to play computer games against teens from other countries. However, it doesn't compare to experiencing the crack of the bat as I slam a softball or sharing such moments with friends I can see and