Personal Narrative : Personal Story

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

A morning such as this is not uncommon. From the age of four, soccer has always been such an important part of my life. That is, until one day I collided with my sister and subsequently limped off the field. I was kept from playing soccer for a year and two school seasons due to my knee injuries. I was kept permanently glued to the bench with a pen and stat book in hand. However, I continued to show up when I could because being a part of the team was still extremely important to me. So, even though I can’t play, I still wanted to be involved in soccer and the team atmosphere.

Unlike all other game days, this one is very special. We take on UC San Diego in hopes of securing a playoff spot. My emotions have been running all over the place, and no it’s not because I am a young adult trying to get through college. I have been playing soccer for 15 years already so it is safe to say that soccer is my life. All I do is constantly train to get better and improve as much as I can and today is my chance to showcase my talent at the highest level I’ve played at so far. It’s my second year at SFSU and my second year playing soccer here and with 20 games already recorded for me at the school, I should be coming into the game with a cool head but I am far from it.

The anticipation as I stand in the concrete tunnel under the bleachers is my life’s biggest moment of uncertainty. Will the crowd stand on their feet in a standing ovation, or will the crowd deem me as mediocre? As I look to my left and right, my teammates’ faces assure me that their nervous excitement is identical to mine. When I hear the announcer on the loudspeaker and hear the students’ shouts, I know it is time to walk on the sharp green blades on the field under the shining Friday night lights.

Two years ago I played my first high school soccer season and it was one of the best experiences I had related with this sport, but what made it special was the last game we faced. Just like Forrest Gump quoted, “Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.” This is how the surprise started; some friends and I were moved up from freshman team to the JV team and we were excited to compete for some game time. Even though we had very low chances, we gave our 100% in the few training sessions we had to earn a spot. Friday night arrived; I was frightened and shocked to face the best team in our district.

One fall morning, when the sun has not come and there is still darkness, I arose from my slumber awaiting the big day I would have ahead. While I am getting ready for the game, by putting on my pads, I get ready to step out my house and get ready for an intense three hours. As I walk to the car, I can already sense the coaches hollering, and the parents just hoping that nothing would go wrong. Each road that we pass and the closer and closer that I get to the field the hollering and the screaming become louder, louder, louder, and louder. Until they stop, as I step on the field, I no longer hear the hollering and screaming. All I can hear are the coaches getting us ready for the game that would happen in fifteen

I refused to cheer too much because I know it would drive my focus away and it was best to stay humble. I reminded the offensive team this because it would be our hubris if we let our victories envelope our heads. By the end of the final quarter, we had won our game by only a 2-point conversion. The cannonade from my chest was still lunging towards the outside world. Throughout the game I feared failure, yet I overcame it. Realizing that my role was more influential than I known previously, I adapted to the pressure. I reflected on my own performance and knew I could do better. There was so much I could improve on and I was determined to be the

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.

We were in the hotel room Saturday morning before the game. I went down to eat the continental breakfast the hotel provided. As I got off the elevator I said to my coach. “Hey Coach, how is it going?”

I stopped right in my tracks. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. It took every ounce of my energy not to go confront this coach. Fortunately, I had a great group of teammates to encourage me

There was so much excitement in the huge locker room. My team and I had been waiting for this day since the beginning of the season. We had worked so hard that winter and we knew we deserved to be here playing in the regional semifinal game. We poured our blood, sweat, and tears into every game, practice, and workout. We were just two games away from making it to the state tournament in San Antonio, Texas. The only thing standing in our way was the LaPoynor Lady Flyers. I had been competing against their point guard since we were in elementary. She was quick, smart, and skilled, but we were ready to shut her down.

After the 7th period bell rang, I rushed to the locker room. Walking into the locker room, every one of us started screaming and yelling football talk. "Time to kick some ass," I yelled over and over as I put on my pads. After we all suited up, we received the pre-game talk from the coaches. We then ran out of the locker room, punched the lockers on the way out and screamed all the way onto the field. Then we started warm ups. For me, this was the most anxious time of game day.

Their team called a timeout, our coach running over to our defence screaming, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT THERE! STOP THEM!!” You could almost see the steam rush out of his ears. I bet he was thinking we were hopeless for this game. On the other hand a tall kid with short brown hair with the name of Eddie walked over to me and stated, “What are we doing out there? If we

As practice slowly approached I began to worry about what the reaction would be from my coach and teammates. When I hopped out of my car the field looked different that it has ever looked before. The people were calmly running around tossing the ball around and laughing. Then I realized what was wrong the coach that I needed to apologize wasn't there! About 15 minutes into practice the coach appeared out of his car onto the

It is a cold night in February, tonight is our first practice of the season. We are all sitting in the bleachers eagerly waiting for practice to start. Coach Dirkx walks over to us, a hush falls over us. He starts talking,