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The Beautiful Game : Personal Narrative : The Beautiful Game

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The Beautiful Game When I was young I never realized how significant sports are. I never saw or got to experience the bond that held an individual to their teammates, the teammates to their coaches, and the fans to their favorite teams. Sports are all around me, all the time. My father, being the middle aged arab man that he was, didn’t watch an abundance of American sports like all my friends dad’s did, but he still managed to catch a good amount of football games here and there. I would hear the T.V. playing, the big first down decisions being called, the crowds extreme involvement in the game. I would hear the basketball hitting the court, the shoes squeaking on quick turns. These sounds all came to be very familiar to me. At times I’d wonder why I wasn’t in any sports. My siblings were never in any sports either. Maybe it just wasn’t our forte? The Hasans didn’t play sports, the Hasan's got good grades and played important instrument roles in the band. I learned to accept this philosophy for a very long time In my life. As I continued to walk along life’s path, sports followed close behind, stepping in my way just as soon as I would forget about it. Football became more eye catching, more mind blowing. Basketball became actually bearable to watch without using my infamous tactic of faking interest. Soccer became my getaway, Soccer opened my eyes to a whole new world. The word passionate flew in and out of my life like every other word, but never stuck around. When I
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