The story starts with me and my dad going to LaCrosse, Wisconsin for a hockey tournament. It was about a three hour drive, and I just watched movies the whole way. When we got there it was getting late and we had an early game so I watched TV and then went to bed. The next morning we got up and went to breakfast at the hotel. When I was done eating I went to put my gear in my dad's truck and get ready. It was cold, so cold that my hair froze in the forty five seconds that i was out there. When I went inside I got my dad and we went to the rink. When we got there I got my gear out of my dad's truck and the tailgate wouldnt latch shut because it was frozen so I had to fix that and by the time i got into the rink I felt like I had frostbite. After watching a few minutes of one of the other games it was …show more content…
After forty five seconds we changed lines so nobody gets tired. Later on we had the puck in the offensive zone and my linemate Skyler shot and it made the distinctive sound of bouncing off the goalies pad. I rushed to the net and tried to tap it in the net but the goalie realized where the puck was and covered it giving me no chance to tap it in. The next shift when I was on the ice was when it happened. I was in the defensive zone and since I am a left wing my job is to be up high and cover their defense. I was near the boards and one of their wings came up to shoot and I remember going in to hit him and then it happened. It all happened so fast I have no clue what happened. I just remember feeling something in my arm. I went to the bench and sat down. When I sat down I immediately took off my glove and looked at my arm. It was swelled up a lot and it hurt terribly. After a few minutes I realized that something was wrong and my coach got my dad and we went to the locker room. I got undressed and we got some ice from the EMT at the rink. We asked the guy where the nearest hospital
When i Was at the mosque outside on the court while i was playing a 3 on 3 basketball game. And the teams was me, bosh and Salah vs Abu, Sunny and Musa. We started to play, and my team was down by 8 points. So i was kind of mad at my team that we was down by so much. So i told them let me take over and try to get us back in the game. So they let me take over and we went on a 7-0 run and out of nowhere we was only down by one point. Then we made a turn over, then they got the ball and they passed it to abdi. And abdi got through his defender and bosh stepped up and tried to block his shot but he head faked bosh and i step and try to block his shot and i jumped up tried to block his shot and my knee cap moved out of
When most people hear the word hockey, they think about skating, ice, and a puck. What most people do not think about is running, the blistering heat, and a small orange ball, however, I do. That is because I play dek hockey, not ice, meaning that we run, and our season is never over. Playing hockey is my favorite thing to do, and I have so many fond memories. Some of those memories are, playing hockey at Bill’s Golfland, U.S.A. Ball Hockey Tryouts, and playing at Penn Hills Dek Hockey.
It all began one day when I was six years old. My dad and I were playing catch at my grandparents house in the yard. I decided that I wanted to pitch so I told my dad to crouch down like a catcher. As I began to pitch I would try to imitate my favorite pitcher at the time, Cardinal starter, Chris Carpenter. My grandpa would sit in a chair by the window and watch me throw. After throwing a few pitches my grandpa decided that he wanted to come outside. With his walker, he made his slow walk outside to get a closer look at me. “I think we’ve got something here” he said to my dad as I continued to pitch. From that moment on, I always wanted to pitch in front of him just to listen to what he would have to say about me.
That was almost ten years ago. Growing up without a TV meant that my source of entertainment came often from stories that lived within my family. That particular one was the first my father had ever told us. It was about his first night sleeping outside as a twelve-year-old Boy Scout. He had packed his gear into a canoe with a friend of his and the two had set out to sleep on an island on the lake by the camp. As I listened to his dramatic retelling of the frigid and hair-raising night, I craved an adventure like this for myself. Soon after that night, I began
We took the field in the second half. We won the face off this time. We went down the field, shot the ball, and the goalie saved it. He threw the ball up to his forward right in front of me, and I stepped up and hit the kid to prevent him from getting the pass and scoring. When I hit him, he fell straight to the ground and I couldn’t see where the ball was. It bounced and went in the net. I was so embarrassed at that point.
With the rest of the basketball girls from the surrounding area, I began summer basketball camp. There was a basketball tournament where we played 4 games in one day. During the game an opponent stole the ball, so I chased her down the court. Once I reached her under their basket, I tripped over her foot, fell, and heard something snap. I was absolutely freaking out. The referees ran down to me. All I could say was “Something popped! Something popped!” I couldn’t bend my leg at the knee, it was scary. I was brought to the main lobby to walk it off. I couldn’t bend my leg for two weeks.
I was more than ready for the lacrosse game to begin, we were playing our biggest rival and the most physical team in our whole division. We were pumped, the air horn rang for the games to begin and they did. It was apparent that we were coming out on top, we scored three goals in under six minutes. We kept this up until the air horn blew to indicate half time and we were up by four. Soon enough I was back under the heat of the sun playing. Time was ticking down and we were only ahead by a one goal margin. Somehow, I got the ball all the way down and ready to shoot. In a blink of an eye, a girl swung her lacrosse stick, missing my stick, instead hitting my head. Rather than being escorted off the field because I was hit, I continued playing; this was a bad move on me.
The summer before my fourth grade year I was attending a basketball camp at Davidson College, when in the final seconds of a scrimmage game, my ankle was kicked out from under me. I immediately fell to the ground in pain as my ankle rolled over on itself. Coaches aided me in limping off of the court and to the training room
SOI-The purpose of this creative piece of writing is an entry from one of our hockey games from tournament. I have tried to use a connection to compare battle or war to hockey, to make the story become more brutal and realistic. I have written in first person to show that it is in my perspective and what I recollect from the game.
The first game was in a field the shape of a banana with a dogleg on one side and a dry creek bed as deep enough to provide good cover. I grouped up with two of my friends at our teams flag station and waited for the ref’s whistle. We waited for a minute in anxious silence, then the whistle blew we sprinted to the creek bed. The creek bed is about halfway across the field so we weren’t sure if the other team would get there first so we were all wary. Then we saw the creek bed. It was empty, for now. Five reds were almost as close to the bed as we were. They saw us and ducked for cover, we slid into the creek bed. I popped my safety in to the fire position and popped off about 20 shots into the group of reds, my teammates did the same. Four of the reds shouted, “HIT!!!” and walked off the field. One of my friends was hit in the clash and walked off the field. That left just two of us in the creek bed. We decided that we should go over the top and make a charge on the last red in front of us, we did and my friend got him. We charged down the sideline to get to the other teams flag. We made it about 50 yards before we saw anyone else, when we did it was all newbee’s and little kids (a newbee is a person who is still new to paintball, you can tell them apart by their rental equipment and lack of skill).
Their was three minutes left in the third period. I was playing for a middle school team. We were winning 11-1, so we were expecting these last three minutes to be chippy. There team called a timeout, our team gathered up our coach told us to keep our heads up. The whistle blew and I skated out to the face off dot. I was the center, Jack Caldicott was the right winger, and Ian Koola was the left winger. The ref dropped the puck when I saw his hand move I hit the center's stick and then the puck. The center was definitely mad at me for hitting his stick. I went to the front of their goal to screen their goalie. All of the sudden the center hit me in the back, which didn’t hurt that much. The puck went to the corner the center was on my right
The play was "Red 334"which is a run to our halfback, me, out of our dive series. I crouched over the ball as I jetted past the quarterback and ran the play so we could observe the changes we needed to make. I let out a sigh of relief because we were finished with the most dreaded part of practice; well, only until someone complained about not knowing their job on one of our pass plays. Coach Nelson undoubtedly decided we needed to run through the final pass play before we perfected our defense. The play was quietly called in the huddle with intentions of getting it right. I ran the play through my mind while I tried to remember what the snap count was and what I was supposed to do for that play. The ball was snapped and I jolted to the left of our team's quarterback to set up his backside protection. Out of my peripheral vision, I noticed the defensive end raging toward the quarterback. I intensely stepped into him while lowering my body and exploded through his shoulder pads sending him stumbling into the line's pass protection.
I pull into school and I see that no one is parked in my spot. Good, that’s the way things are supposed to be. As I get out of my car Luke comes over to walk with me into school. He’s done it ever since we started dating.
I looked straight up and could not see the ball for a good two seconds. That was the longest two seconds of my life as the ball is falling straight towards my face. I put my glove and hand up, then I hear “crack”, as I feel a ton of pressure on my finger. I glanced down at my finger and say “OH MY GOD”, as if someone just shot my dog. My finger was completely sideways.
I remember at the end of class we had to run around the court and collect as many balls as we could and count them for prizes after practice. Crouching down logging the number of balls on our papers frantically..then this girl charged from behind because she was desperate to win and leave. I didn't see her and neither did anyone else because we were all so focused in counting the balls, of course with my luck she jumped like how we used to do when we played "leap frog" only she didn't jump over me. She managed to jump over and land on my head. *Boom* head into the court and almost had a concussion.