Personal Narrative: The 2006 Winter Olympic Games

I found my love for athletic activity at a young age. When I was 7 years old, I was enrolled in a YMCA summer program in Michigan. That is where it all started. My summer days were filled with various sport activities. Unfortunately, when I moved to California at the age of 10, I stopped playing sports for at least a year. However, during the rest of elementary school, throughout middle school, and in high school, I played different sports to figure out which one I liked best, which is now, Track & Field.

Second year as an Under-10 Squirt level hockey player for the New Jersey Colonials ice hockey team proved to be a challenging and harrowing experience that shaped the course of my future hockey career. I was a determined, naïve child with fantasies of playing in the NHL when I grew older. The source of my troubles began with Coach Ruben, a relentless, unforgiving hockey coach. Coach Ruben was in charge of determining the AAA hockey team that I desperately wanted to make. Unfortunately, I would not have that opportunity. My mom, compassionate and sympathetic, guided me through the confusing maze of anger and depression. My dad, a coach and former hockey player, gave me valuable, supportive advice that would change my hockey expectations and

The coat of armor I adorned, made of down feathers and a nylon shell, yielded no protection against the daggers of that cold winter air. As I peered out toward the horizon, I saw nothing but tree tops, and some snow capped mountain tops in the distance. With my feet bound to freshly waxed skis, the only thing stronger than my ski poles was my determination to get down the mountain.

What is the only thing harder than disciplining a dozen ten year olds? Disciplining them on ice! All throughout my life I’ve played sports, and no matter what sport it was, there was always one person who seemed to have it out for me…the referee. The referee is one of the most hated people in the world of sports, but is also one of the most crucial. I grew up with the mindset that the referee was the enemy. Whenever they made a call against me or my team, they were always wrong, no matter how obvious the penalty was. But one day, my whole perspective on referees changed---the day I became a referee.

My first Opening season game was two years ago at the Blues Hockey stadium in ST. Louis Mo. It was a cold day, The sun was barely shining and I had just got to ST. Louis driving thru the city making our way to the hockey rink. The traffic was horrible and not safe there was tons of people walking on the streets trying to get to that game. When we finally got there we pulled into the parking garage and got out the car after we did that we put on our jerseys and went to the side of the garage and watched tons of people rolling in and not to mention the band that was there. After the band was done we went inside and found our seats when we got there we had an unlimited buffet of food to eat, I had chicken tenders, hot chocolate, soda, and hot

The futures field hockey camp. The best from all over the state practice from January to April at the nearby college to then compete in one, possibly two, tournaments. Regionals and then, if you make it passed, nationals. A chance to practice with the US Olympic team.

It was cloudy in the late morning, which meant even the weather didn’t look promising, Even more optimistically looking it seemed like the clouds were about to rupture into trillions of droplets each one a part of me about to shatter from humiliation. And obviously rain and humidity were the best conditions for field hockey. The building looked more downcast than I’d ever seen it, and when my dad parked the car it became more evident that this was not going to go as faultlessly as I hoped it would.

As a track runner, it is a necessity to be relaxed yet focused and determined. When I participate in track meets or even at practices, I receive a comforting warmth just by stepping onto the track. I feel as though burdens and worries temporarily lift from my shoulders. One may wonder how this can make someone content with their surroundings instead of nervous and uneasy based upon their environment and luckily for me this is an uncomplicated notion to explain. Unlike particular people, the track calms me and gives me a place to clear my head. I work relentlessly to achieve my goals, nevertheless it also gives me the clearance and space I need to effectively work my hardest whether it be a physical goal I am working to achieve

Today was the day. As I woke up I wondered about the day ahead of me. Once I got up I looked out the window, the bright light shining in my face. I took a quick second to adjust my eyes, and realized that it had snowed almost 9 inches. “This is going to be interesting,” I thought. It was the day of the annual pond hockey tournament. The small town of about 500 people participate in the tournament. As I get ready to go, I debate what to wear. I finally decide on warm pants, thick jacket, a hat, gloves, and hand warmers along with my skates and gloves.

I had stolen a hockey stick. My hockey buddies dared me to. But I had a problem. What would I do? I had stolen 150 dollars of composite fibers and wood. Thats a good bit of cash! What should I do now, is all I could think. Should I tell somebody, or just leave it a secret? I was so stressed, I could burst. Then, it came to me.

My plans when I get older where like every other child's. I want to be in the NFL. To get where I am you have to start at a young age. I showed up at practice everyday and on time. I also studied the play sheets and went through all my routes. I studied day and night to be where I am. It wasn't easy. There was no time to play games get in trouble do drugs or hang out with friend on an everyday bases. You have to tighten up be a man. It's not like I woke up one day and I was starting running back I had to do what's right stay in school not miss a day because that one day could have been the most important day ever and I wouldn't have even known. You know why?? Because I was and didn't show up to school. Don't be that person I used to be.

Cross country is a sport that can change the way people see themselves. I can only say this statement because I have been affected by this myself. During this satisfying sport I would constantly find myself lost in the moment. Not realizing how much this sport has meant to myself. Now that I have seen just about everything this sport has to offer I can relive some of the valuable life lessons that cross country has taught me.

People called me crazy or bizarre, but I called myself determined. Crazy and bizarre refers being passionately excited and out of the ordinary, while determined refers to being relentless. Together these words perfectly described the actions I took to play ice hockey my freshman and sophomore year of highschool.

Today it was any ordinary day for me but I remembered that I had a hockey game today. I knew that this game was to determine if my team made it to the championship game or if the other team did, the other team was a bunch of goons their idea was to hit us and hit us hard along the boards. I knew how they played and I thought we could just beat them with speed but, no the opposite happened my team played slow that night and played to their level of play. My friend on the team said, “They’re playing so well tonight.” I thought that too because our team was down by one goal the entire game till the third period. I notice that on the other team they had two guys that would hit you no matter where you were. They would hit you here and there and

Growing up, I was always an awkward child. I did not speak much, and I had friends in elementary school, but I usually spent most of my time alone. My house in Bloomfield, New Jersey, did not help with my personality at all. In fact, it hurt me. Outside, the plot of grass in the backyard was about as minuscule as my bedroom, only about 16 by 16 feet. The worn and rusty red fence made me feel like I was in a high-security prison. In the front of the house, the driveway was large enough to contain two cars, with very little room for anything else. It was surrounded by a rectangular brick wall with bushes on the top. I rarely played outside, because Bloomfield was a town with a lot of crime, and my mother did not want me to get kidnapped. Although