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True Texas Football Narrative

Decent Essays

A loud whistle blew, signaling the end of the play.
“Sit down little boy!” A huge figure stood over Michael, glaring down at his undersized 5’9” frame.
“You’re gonna want to make yo’self real comfortable down there.” the dark figure said while wagging a finger at Michael’s face.
“Don’t ever try to stiff arm me again boy.” With that, he returned to the field as his teammates gathered and went bezerk about the huge hit he put on Michael.
Michael took a long look at his dirty uniform. Doubts began to creep into his mind.
‘Maybe I just can’t do this. I should’ve listened to my parents,’ he thought. His dark brown skin glistened with sweat in the setting Texas sun, as the unknown player cast a long shadow over him. His football gloves were soaked …show more content…

He fiddled with his gloves, his fingers moving sporadically. “Coach Miller will post the rosters tomorrow at 12’ sharp. Gentlemen, let’s end with a prayer. Any volunteers?” Shaking his head as he saw no one raising their hands, he kneeled on the ground and started to pray. “Lord, thank you for a great day of true Texas football. Thank you for all these young men who are very talented and ready to win. Lord, it is my urgent prayer that these me become more than just football players, but young men who lead their community and their friends in a positive direction.” Michael opened his eyes ever so slightly, trying to peek at the players around him. As he scanned the field, he saw Coach Garrison basked in the creamsicle colored sunlight. He watched him as Coach Garrison pumped his fists with every syllable in his prayer. A small smile finally broke through Michael’s face in what had been a very long day. “Lord, I thank you for football, family, friends, and the good ol’ state of Texas. …show more content…

But as the lights went off and the world grew dark, Michael lingered on the gridiron until he was the last person left on the practice field. Looking around him to make sure no one was watching, he began to sprint up and down the field, pretending he was the starting running for the Texas Longhorns. He made sharp cut after sharp cut, juking imaginary defenders and stiff arming would-be tacklers. He celebrated his way toward the end zone, pretending that he won the championship for the Cowboys, his favorite team. Time flew by as he juked and sprinted his way across the field. Making one last imaginary run, he dove towards the pylon, scoring one last time. As he sat and rested in the end zone, he looked towards the parking lot, where he thought he saw a person watching him. In the dark, his eyes strained to make out the features of this man. Then, the bystander started walking towards him. The man had a confident walk, and an upright stature. He resembled… “Michael, what in the heaven’s sakes are you still doing here?” called out the familiar voice. It was Coach Garrison. He sat down next to Michael, looking at him with his all-knowing eyes. His eyes penetrated his thoughts and seemed to know everything about

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