Why I Want My Hunger To Play Basketball

I played volleyball pretty much my whole high school career. I did a winter club. I went to morning workouts. I did everything that my coach told me to do. But then the dreaded two day, five hour tryouts came. I gave everything I had. But my coach still decided to cut me, along

Basketball was my favorite sport growing up. I’ve played since I was little and I still play the game today. I played basketball at my elementary school, St. Cecilia, from Kindergarten till 8th Grade and also played AAU basketball for about 2 years before entering High School. Going into my freshmen year of High School, the first sport I played was basketball. Tryouts began in about the start of November and ended about 2 weeks after. I had made the Freshmen A team. I was excited and as the season progressed, we didn’t win many games but I still had fun playing. Nearing the end of the season, golf was another sport coming up that I also wanted to try and play. I say “try and play” because at the time, I was also going to play AAU basketball. I had set in my mind that I was going to play basketball for all of my four years of high school, but my parents pushed me to tryout for golf. When the basketball season ended, golf tryouts started. Tryouts lasted for about 2 weeks, and I made the JV team. When I found out I made the team, I was very surprised. I hadn’t put in the hard work as others before tryouts came around, but the coach saw potential in me and that I can become a great player. The coach saw so much potential in me, that every week, I kept progressing in skill and fine tuning my mechanics. Halfway through the season, about 4 or 5 weeks after I made the team, my coach gave me the chance to play with the Varsity Golf team for a couple days. I was excited and eager to

For most of my life, I was skilled in organized sports, especially soccer, which I had played for many years. After a successful soccer season my freshman year, I thought that I would make the JV team for sure. At tryouts, I went through the motions of each drill. I breezed through the conditioning tests, doing the bare minimum for each test. I didn’t try as hard as others, as I felt that I was more skillful than most of my peers.

I was constantly looked down on, as through the practices, varsity players continuously knock me down and run me over. One varsity player named Jordan Zorbas hit me so hard I felt like a crash test dummy. Later in practices, the varsity roster was taped to the locker-room’s wall. I couldn’t place my name on the list, meaning that I was on the freshman team. I remember thinking,“ Why couldn’t I make it, “ but deep down I knew why. I began practicing with the freshman team at linebacker. September 7th we had our first game against Ida Baker high school. I remember making the first tackle of the game, with me wrapping the running back and stripping the ball from his meaty hands. Although I started the whole game, I was not satisfied with my performance and felt that I should’ve done

It is my junior year of high school and basketball season is right around the corner. I am on the verge of either making varsity or junior varsity this year depending upon my skills. Went through the tryouts and was able to make the junior varsity again for my second year with coach Maloney. I was all excited to play there again seeing I was one out of the three kids that made it back there again. From there it was Cam, Anthony, and I who thought would lead the team because we were the only ones who knew how to run Maloney’s offense and defense well that’s what I had thought was gonna be the case but in reality it wasn't. I thought I would be a starter for the team, but in reality I ended up being a bench player or how I thought of it as a

I went up Coach Griffin after that first practice and asked him what I could improve on to be a varsity player. He told me that I was at the skill level required for the team; however, my lack of experience was leading to a noticeable confidence issue. I would just have to work hard on JV that year, he said, and they would possibly pull me up later in the season. I took it to heart, and it was only after that season that I realized how wise he was to put me on JV. That year, I was the captain of the team and one of the best players on the field, and after a few games, I was dressing for

My family was born to play basketball, both of my brothers had the size and athleticism to play professionally, and my dad towered over others standing at 6’6”. At a young age I was expected to follow in their footsteps. However, I did not have the size that the rest of my family did, and struggled to compete due to my small stature. In the seventh grade I tried out for my middle school basketball team and was promptly told I wasn’t good enough to play. I came home crying feeling that I disappointed my family. The next year, during the eighth grade try-outs, the coach said the same thing and broke my heart for the second year in a row. Dissatisfied with these results, I promised that I would make a change before entering high school.

I have gone through many experiences and journeys throughout my life. However, out of all of them, one stands out the most. That one journey that stands out the most is making the middle school basketball team. It was a two long journey that I will never forget. It all started seventh grade year at Sebring Middle School when I tried out for the basketball team. The whole month before tryouts, I conditioned and played basketball nonstop preparing for the week-long tryouts. Finally, the first day of tryouts came and everything went well. The second day of tryouts came, which is when they do the first cut, and I was lucky enough not to get cut. After the second day, the next two days were a breeze. Then Friday came, the last day of tryouts. At

As a child, I was taught that with hard work and determination I could achieve anything. Unfortunately, this is a myth, and limitations are a part of being human. I was forced to accept this reality during my junior year of high school. Ever since I was a little girl, I looked forward to playing varsity basketball on the orange and black court at Dalton High School. Finally, during my third year of high school, I was given the chance to start as point guard on the girls’ varsity basketball team. Suddenly, my dream turned into a nightmare, and I was sitting on the bench watching other girls play the game I loved. Gretchen Wald, a teammate, was experiencing the same problem. Luckily, she remained by my side throughout the experience. Together,

Our school was never very good at sports and only about five girls would be cut. I was jittery the day that the varsity roster was to be posted; I wanted nothing more than to be part of the team. After classes ended, I walked to the athletic board, where the varsity roster would be posted. I anxiously scanned the list for my name. I scanned it again. As my eyes ran over the page a third time, my heart began to sink. I hadn’t made the team. I was one of five girls who were cut from the varsity team. In a daze, I went to practice. Instead of focusing like I usually did, I went through the motions. The five of us who made up the junior varsity team had a separate practice with the assistant coach. After the sting of failure finally faded, I began to work harder than before. I showed up early to practice and stayed late every day. Every weekend I spent at least two hours on the field practicing. I was determined to make the coaches regret putting me on the “JV” team. As the season ended, I didn’t stop working to become better. Any day that was not too cold, I could be found on the field. When spring came, I joined the soccer team, hoping to improve on my endurance and speed. Over the summer, I spent at least two hours every day running and practicing. When the field hockey season rolled back around, I was ready to show off my skills and make the varsity

At tryouts all I wanted was to be on that team. All I thought had to do to reach my next goal was work hard. I remember walking down that back stairwell, full of students, rushing to get to the clear front doors of the school, where the list that my goal depended on was surrounded by my teammates. I used my height to my advantage and peeked over the crowd. My anticipation was quickly crushed, though, by an all encompassing sadness of not making the core team, but secondary one. That sadness quickly morphed into an unbridled anger. I was angry at myself, my teammates, God, but especially my coach, who I would later find out made promises to parents from the past season that their children would be starters. I never let the anger show during that forgotten season, I made some good memories and grew closer to people I thought I couldn't, but that anger was bottled up and needed escape. I needed revenge and that came in the form of club volleyball. I made the top team, and grew exponentially as a player, even playing on an older team for nationals. I came back ready for that next school season. I walked into the air conditioned, orange lighted, smelly, old gym full of confidence. I could do anything and no one was going to stop me from reaching my goal. I did make the core team that year. My goal I’d wanted for a year was completed and yet left me feeling unsatisfied and wanting more. These memories block out many others I’ve made in a wonderful six year volleyball career. It has formed me into the volleyball player I am today and that unsatisfied feeling gave way one of my next goals now, to play volleyball for a collegiate program at a division one school. But the only way to get that dream, as I have learned so many times, is work hard, pursue what you want, and never let anyone decide your fate for you, because if they do, it won't fulfill the goals you have chosen for

I showed up ready to go and ran all the drills and realized I was not as good as I thought I was. I had trouble during any dribbling drills, doing it much slower than everyone else since all I knew was how to dribble in one hand. Dribbling was not the only struggle I faced either. I could barely even hold my own in a quick one-on-one against someone. Only ten seconds into me guarding him, he had me on the ground. My ankles and dreams were shattered. After all this, I did not make the team; I never expected to after the first day, but it only took one day for me to realize my

It was late October, leaves were changing, and cold weather was rolling into the Ohio area. You could always tell whether or not your team had been having a successful fall season when you finish up your regular practice time, and as you are walking out of the gym the mens basketball team is lacing up after you. Our second round of the tournament we travelled out to the boonies of Ohio; Blanchester. An hour trip from our little town, we were determined to come out on top. We weren’t making this trip just for a loss, especially during homecoming week. My team played beautifully, executing a win. After this game, I received a phone call from Jim explaining that a local coach had heard of my recent accolades, seen me play, and was very impressed. Flattered, assuming he was just telling me a compliment, I grinned and told him a generous ‘thank you!’ Little did I know, this coach had played for Coach Condit at Miami University. She had told her about me and wanted me to call her. My heart jumped out of my chest; not only was this one of my top schools WITHOUT volleyball, but now with it was an opportunity of my dreams. A nervous and thrilled sensation struck me all at once. I knew in an instant that this was where I wanted to be, that my goal was within reach I just had to work harder than ever for

Last year, in seventh grade I decided to try out for basketball after the first day of tryouts I was not confident that I was going to make the team because I could not make a shot. The next day we had another try out I was ready to play. I came out and played well which made me feel better about the tryout. After the third day of tryouts I was not to confident that I would make the team. When I got the email that I made the team I was juiced I jumped all over my room. The first practice I was ready to play. I knew that coach Faust didn't mess around when it came to basketball. Practice was miserable I was so tired from doing “suicides” and running around the track. Our team couldn't do any of the drills successfully so we ended up running extra. On the second day of practice we started doing much better and making some shots.

I instantly felt dismayed at the remark the coach had said to me and left wondering what I'd done wrong. As I got home, my dad asked me how the practice had been that day. I confided what the coach had told me and he advised me to forget about it and to work hard during the practices. So, every time I played volleyball I played hard and rigorously, even when it was just meant to be for fun. My dad also supported me by taking me to the church building so I can practice there, we'd set up and start doing drills. I ended that volleyball season playing the most with the junior varsity team. The coach congratulated me because he noticed that I had improved a lot since the beginning of the season. Once I began my junior year and tryouts came, I was more confident about my ability to succeed, this newfound faith in myself led me to re-join varsity and to become starter of the