College Admissions Essay: Basketball And My Dreams

I played basketball, becoming immersed within the game, and learning from the advice of others and my own mistakes. Basketball used to be a dream one could never imagine letting go, but due to this new knowledge, experience, and constant, repetitive playing with seemingly no new obstacles; it had now become such a thing. I had lost a fundamental value which, I realized, couldn't be reestablished. Everything had been erased: the beauty, the awe, the fun. The wonder and admiration I held for the game seemed to be a distant memory from when basketball was still entirely new to me. The small high school court became a podium for people to watch and admire; the giant scoreboard held high on the wall, bringing players a sense of hope and excitement;

I felt connected, and I sat there, watching the game, and ignoring everyone around me. This world, where nothing seemed to matter besides that one moment that encaptured the love for the game, became my world and I held it close to me. But, this could not last, as that fateful day came to pass where I began to look over the very things that first inspired my love for the game, from the cheering crowds to the hardwood floor, with a dull, indifferent gaze. On that day, I looked over the game I once loved and remarked, “Look at the court, a small, dirty place where no one is safe from the banter of others, the giant scoreboard that only highlights a team’s failures; the banners representing the achievements of the greats upon the wall, only bringing unachievable goals and expectations upon players; the cheering that boosts up one’s own morale but seeks to ruin the spirits of the opponents, taking away from the sportsmanship values that the game was originally created with and bringing misery to others; the mascot etched into the court, representing the entire school’s hope and desire to win, and placing this immeasurable burden upon the shoulders of young individuals, who are nothing but high school students like everyone else around them; the pounding of the ball, which only adds to one’s anxiety with each dribble, and the sense of terror individuals get as shots are made into their own basket, only