Plastic Rifle Narrative

whom nobody trusted. Clardy wanted to be colonel of the Mississippi Volunteer rifles, but when Jeffery Davis got the job he moved far away from the south. The next day, on his way back to Fort Leavenworth, he sees David's mom forcing David to go back to the Fort. They return together.

Colorguard is an intense, exhilirating and fun sport. It involves dance, spinning wooden rifles, flags and sabres. But what stops everyone from joining is not knowing how to spin the objects, specificly the rifle. Yes, learning how to spin the rifle correctly can be frustrating but with plenty of the right practice and effort, it'll be a piece of cake.

In third grade I began my first official Sheridan sports team. I was now officially making my way to becoming a general; before that I didn’t have any idea of what being a “general” meant. At the time I was attending Thornville elementary and the majority of my friends at my school were just as pumped as I, for our first practice on the field beside the infamous Sheridan Middle school. The first few weeks of practice taught me nothing I wanted was going to be easily attainable, these coaches expected more out of me than I had ever been accustomed to. The bar they set for us each day pushed us to new heights we had only dreamed of.

IntroI am doing this report on the M1 Garand for Mr.Walker 182's History Class. The Garand is a fascinating World War II semi-automatic rifle. In the sub-sections below I will describe the developement history of the gun, the service history, and info on different versions. I wanted to add diagrams of the M1 rifle but the pictures are copyrighted and I was not able to download but the diagrams could be found at <a href="http://www.chestnutridge.com/gchart.asp">http://www.chestnutridge.com/gchart.aspDevelopment HistoryThe origins of the United States Rifle, Caliber .30, M1 begin around August, 1900, when Captain O.B.

Ott et al. find that CFM has a “near-total absence of reflection on the role of firearms in society” (Ott et al., 2015, p.219) and is “focusing on the presentation of firearms using an aesthetic of domestication and sterility” (Ott et al., 2015, p.217). Including the Coors Video Theatre, the hunting lodge, the frontier stage stop, and The Browning Gallery, none of these are showing the violence and reality side of the weapon. The way CFM describes guns as “necessary tools, commonplace commodities, and innovative technologies in nineteenth-century America is not historically inaccurate, just highly selective” (Ott et al., 2015, p.222). They also mention taxonomy and “the manner in which they (guns) are arrayed and hung” (Ott et al., 2015, p.225). The authors called these as “artistic arrangement”, which means, “the guns purified of violence, death, and war” (Ott et al., 2015, p.226).

The past two year we won the first two games in a dogfight and then destroyed Saginaw High in the district championship. On the week of the game, practices are a vale of tears . Twenty brutal suicides before practice, morning and evening practices. One thing that he knows, is that Saginaw high always out toughing us with fake toughness. So top it off Coach Mcmath, brings back his championship team from 2006 to scrimmage us the whole week before the big game. These are grown man with buffy, barrel-chested, some are slightly built and some are strapping. He believes the long, sweaty and abusive practices is the cause of our success, because we always have the 5 star players but just lack of toughness when it comes to this game. The best part about practices the week of the game is the gear we receive. Coach calls us in his offices one by one, it smells nice and fresh. The cold air hits your face. You take a look around.That’s when you see them! All the random shoes and gear. “It’s the pair of new shoes we’ll be wear for this game and get some socks from the box” he’ll say. Once you approach them, and take a look at them you know it's

Yet my apprehension prevailed as I continued to fear getting put in the game in case another player was injured. I was still afraid of making mistakes and getting blamed by screaming coaches and angry teammates. Sometimes these fears came true. During my sophomore season, my position led me to play in the varsity games on many occasions. On such occasions, I often made mistakes. Most of the time the mistakes were not significant; they rarely changed the outcome of a play. Yet I received a thorough verbal lashing at practice for the mistakes I had made. These occurrences only compounded my fears of playing. However, I did not always make mistakes. Sometimes I made great plays, for which I was congratulated. Now, as I dawn on my senior year of soccer, I feel like a changed person.

Summer, a season where many are free to do whatever they please and not have a worry in the world. This is not the case, however, for a high school football player such as myself; for classes being released marks the start of another season, not summer, but football season. It was a hot day on Mount Diablo High’s football field; I could already feel sweat dripping down as I stood there in my armor. Players were separated between two categories: Skills players and the Linemen. The coaches came and said we had to do hitting drills to start of practice. So the linemen, Erik, D’antae, Xavier, Charlie, Jarreck, Anthony, Josh, and I, created a circle and waited to see who the coaches would call out first. To my surprise, there was someone in the

It was my sophomore year, and the day had come to find out who made the varsity lacrosse team. We piled into the locker room to discover rows of brand new helmets. The list of the varsity players was written on the whiteboard. The team was excited, the locker room buzzing with noise. My heart dropped as I realized that my name wasn’t written there. My friends were admiring their new helmets and I had to hold back tears and disappointment. I know now that I still had to be developed at the junior varsity level, but it wasn’t easy to understand back then. At practice that day, I played out of pure spite, every move filled with rage. You aren’t good enough, I thought. I left practice that day without saying goodbye to my friends.

My emotions were slowly building up throughout the day. Adrenaline was running through my body from excitement as I walked towards the locker room, which we called the clubhouse. I arrived at the front door to be greeted by music and some teammates changing into their uniforms. I slowly walked to my locker when it suddenly hit me… we’re in the semi-regional finals. The thought staggered me as I stood there staring at my lightly stained uniform. All the noise muffled out of my mind as I’m trying to focus. I snap back to reality as I hear my coach calling my name. He simply hands me the folded American flag as if it’s almost routine. Putting up the America flag has been my unofficial job for home games. Once the flag is up I make my way back to the clubhouse, pick up my gear and stroll down to

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.

The odds were always against us, yet we persevered. When everybody told us “no, it cannot be done”, we stared right back at them and simply smiled while nodding because we always did our talking on the field, where it really matters. This is a story of how the Dulles Varsity Soccer Team shut up Clements without having to open our mouth.

Football is a religion in my house, and during football season my parents get a little crazy. Every Sunday, they are decked out in full blue and green gear. Similarly, some people take sports a little too seriously, like Theodore Roosevelt's son, who whined to his father about not getting in the second squad. Responding to his son's obsession with sports, Theodore Roosevelt, the famous president of the United States, tries to convince his son, Ted, that sports shouldn't be his first priority. By empathizing with his son, using shifting tone and using step-by-step reasoning, Roosevelt articulates his point.

Throughout my years, I have mostly been associated with flag football. Stepping onto a football field takes a lot of guts and there was a time when I had to overcome my own doubts. Back in the Fall of 2015, my sophomore year, I was still a shrimp compared to my superior teammates. Every practice I would exhaust myself to prove my worthy to be on the team, but even more, on the field. Although I was the only player aiming to be quarterback, it did not mean I did not have to try. The second practice started, I felt rumbles within my heart. Of course Juniors and Seniors doubted my skill, that’s no surprise. I was determined to earn their respect no matter what.

Running into the gym with my team, knowing it was my last middle school basketball game, but first championship game I felt elated and truly blessed. My knees quivered with anticipation after seeing all the bleachers filled with people. After realizing even the press and other media was in attendance I grasped the moment like a newly elected president at his inauguration. I am warming up doing basketball drills, when I began to look at the flags on the gym wall depicting the history of the basketball team. The years and dates of the last championship game, Historically a championship game had not been won since 2007 . The more I stared at the flags, the more it made me want to win this game and make history in this gym. As the crowd and cheerleaders start to chant, cheer and get loud, I started to feel more comfortable and rowdy more than I had ever felt in any other game that I’ve played. Waiting for the referee to blow the whistle for jumpall to start. I felt my fingertips tapping the side of my leg, which for some reason gives me a sign to myself that I am pumped up and ready to play!