Soccer Goalie-Personal Narrative

Soccer is a game where nothing is predictable. Soccer is a game that’s been around since the eighteenth century and has a different effect on many athletes’ lives, including mine. My sophomore year of high school is over and I was finally over with a long season of high school soccer. Returning to my team of five years I was excited to go back and am comfortable with. Right as I approached my team I saw an unfamiliar face and instantly got intimidated. Trying my hardest to avoid him it seemed as if every time I looked over he was examining my every move. Of course that day of practice was a series of conditioning test to see if we were really doing our fitness assignments over the break. The drills consisted of a pattern of sprint got dragged out all along to eighty yard

I spent all my life with a soccer ball at my feet. I've had the worst problems happen to me and i'd always somehow get through it when i'm on the pitch. Honestly there is no place i'd rather be than scoring goals and playing the beautiful game with some of my best friends. There is one thing in this world that can actually fix all of your problems, futbol!

Growing up I had focused on competitive soccer. Soccer challenged me both physically and mentally and I learned to love these demands on the field. These challenges helped me foster a self-confidence in myself when it came to athletics. When I fractured my tibia playing against my rival high school, sending my knee cap into my thigh, I was faced with a new test. The sport that I loved was taken away from me for an extended period of time and it took away part of my identity. Who was I without soccer?

It was a cold day in November: an icy breeze blowing across a green soccer pitch in Jackson, Mississippi. Fans along the sideline cheering on the Jackson Elite FC. I took the field feeling the pressure of gameday bearing down like i had weights on my shoulders. This was the first time I had every started as a forward in a soccer game. The referee brings the ball to midfield and sets it down. I hear my parents cheering from the sidelines. The opposing team kicks off and the game is on.

When I was eight years old, I played my first season of soccer. The real reason I played soccer was because my dad forced me to play. I loved to play all kinds of sports such as basketball, baseball and football but I was never interested in soccer. After my first practice I already realized soccer was not for me. I told my dad that I did not want to play anymore but he would not listen and made me keep going to practice. At my 3rd practice, the whole team was running laps and I tripped over a stick and fell down. My ankle was hurting pretty bad but I knew I was going to be fine. While I was lying on the ground, I thought to myself If I tell the coach and my dad that my ankle is hurt really bad than I won’t have to play anymore. I thought it was a genius idea at the time. I told them just that and it worked! I have no idea how my dad knew this but once I got home he knew that I was milking my injury. He told me something that night that I won’t ever forget. He told me “you didn’t just give up on yourself, you gave up on your team”. He called the coach the next day and told him that

I was shaking from nervousness. I knew that I had to give it everything I had for the sake of my team. I ran out on the field. As the ball was being played on the other side, I prayed that I would have an opportunity to help my team. Not a minute later, the ball flew up over me and the rest of the offense. One of the midfielders dashed to the ball. She ran down into the corner and passed it to the middle. I stood there, anticipating the drop and ready to score. As the ball fell to the ground, I took a small step back. I quickly got my balance, and shot as hard as I could. Time seemed to stand still as the ball flew through the air, over the goalies hands, and right into the corner of the goal. I had done it. I had broken the tie. My whole team rushed over to give me a hug. I was almost crying from joy. I could hear my parents and the other fans cheering for me from the sidelines. Shortly after we took the lead yet again, the final whistle blew. We had

“Grace, take the kick!” My coach yelled. My heart hammered in my chest, my palms sweaty. I scanned all of the people from my team and the other team in between me and the net. If I make this shot my team will win, but if I miss it, we will probably lose. The field grew silent. I eyed the corner of the goal, and then the white and blue ball. That is where I wanted the ball to go, now I just had to get it there.

In the summer before my senior year, I tore my ACL while playing a small soccer scrimmage. The doctor explained my injury as very common in female soccer. But the heartbreaking reality made me feel much more than the statistic on the dry erase board that Dr. Mayer held. I loved waking up, going to school, and finishing the day with some type of sports practice! After the incident happened, I cried and whimpered for hours as my leg swelled to the size of a balloon. But the pain was much more than skin and muscle deep. With a post-surgery recovery time of nine months, I realized my high school athletic career had come to an abrupt and expeditious end. I had also ran out of college credits at my small school in the same year. Because of this,

Hey Mohawks! This past Thursday was senior night for soccer. I would of never imagined it coming so fast, it seems like the season started last week. Words cannot describe how sad I am that I only have a few more games left. As we closed out our season Tuesday we are looking forward to the post season. We are hoping to upset Valley View next Monday. We faced them earlier in the season and the results were not what we wanted. I am confident that we can come out this time ready for what they are going to throw at us. I hope everyone has a good weekend and thanks for

“Go Spartans Go!” screamed the crowd as we took the field. I felt nervous, with sweat dripping from my face and my hands feeling moist. The moment I took my position, I felt destined to be the best player on the field and thought to myself, “I can do it.” It was my first start for my career as a varsity soccer player for Brookfield East. I wanted to make every opportunity count. I could smell the scent of the freshly cut grass and the aroma of the concession stand. The referee blew his whistle and we were off to the races. The first 45 minutes went by in a heartbeat and I was exhausted. 5 minutes after halftime, the unthinkable happened. As I was sprinting for the ball, my knee gave out and twisted beneath me. I fell in an instant and I felt

The feeling of defeat is one like no other. It was my freshman year, and I had just made varsity soccer for Vestavia Hills. The goal for the team: 7A state champions.

Throughout my lifetime, activities, events, and services that I am involved in have shaped me as a person. The one thing that I personally think has had the most impact on my character is being a soccer coach for Lil’ Kickers, it has given me qualities of leadership that will carry on throughout my entire life.

Chasing the ball down the field to soon hear a loud crack followed by silence.

I was born with a crown on my head so at age five when I was given a soccer jersey and cleats I was not a happy princess. Surprisingly I did a great job at blocking...my body from the giants who always seemed to be running towards me for some reason. Knowing that kicking and blocking was not part of my capabilities, when the ball landed at my feet I did as the famous and inspirational rapper Ludacris once said, I moved and I got out of the way. During halftime of one game my dad had a fit, partially because I was not a boy but that is a different story. He told me ”you need to toughen up out there. Nice people finish last! Do you know why the Brazilians call soccer football? Because they know that this is a rough n’ tough sport!” *CONFUSED LOOK* No dad! They call it fútbol because that is the name for soccer in their country. *SIGH* Needless to say my dad is not bilingual; although, he was right about me being too polite and this wasn’t just on the court... I mean field. At 5 it didn’t affect me; however, by middle school I became a victim of bullying for being too “nice”. No one treated me like a princess anymore and looking back my crown had been slowly falling off as the realities of the real world

Coming from all different directions, some shots going faster than others, some harder shots than others. The only thing that can stop it is to focus and make sure you are in front of it. The puck is dropped and overtime is on its way. It's 3 on 3 hockey, the defensemen get the forwards and the forwards get the defensemen. It's a tie game, one goal will decide the winner. “Boom boom, boom boom”, my heart is on its edge pumping blood way too fast. Sweat dripping down my face, legs are shaking, the sounds of the players skates ripping through the ice, all of theses distractions are coming from different ways. But that doesn't bother me because I know that I have one goal, keep the puck away from the net. I am not alone though. My friends, the