The air in the run-down gym was humid. I was surrounded by laughter and the sound of basketballs bouncing on the court. As I looked around at all these strangers that I called my teammates, I wondered if this practice would be any better. I put my shoes on slowly, knowing if I did it too fast, I would have to stand alone and be the outsider. Suddenly, as I was tying the final knot on my shoe, a whistle blew which commanded us to hustle to the center of the court. My coach had a stern look on her face, and that’s when I knew it would be a rough practice. It hadn’t even begun, yet I was already ready for it to end. It wasn’t that I disliked basketball at all, it was quite the opposite. I started playing basketball in second grade and immediately …show more content…
I barely got on the court that scrimmage and when I was off the court, I watched the clock in hopes time would somehow move faster. When practice finally ended I left as fast as I could, not even taking the extra time to take my shoes off. When I got in the car, I told my mom about what had happened. Nothing she said helped me. I felt like a failure, like the only thing I thought I was good at was a lie. I went home and let all my emotions flood over me. I had never felt so upset about the sport I thought I loved. It made me even more upset that I had the thought in my head of fully quitting after this AAU season. My dad then heard about what happened and saw how visibly upset I was and went to talk to me. He sat next to me and told me I shouldn’t worry about what they had to think and that I should just play the game I love. He then pointed out the fact everyone picked their friends first, which at the moment, I hadn’t realized because of how nervous I was standing on that baseline. My teammates made me think so low of myself that I just felt so hated and unwanted. I had never felt so incapable of making friends and playing a sport in my whole
Entering my final season of AAU basketball I knew I had set myself up for a roller coaster of emotions, whether it was from the night of my first practice, the weekend of my first tournament, or my first time on the road with my new team. This was because a lot was on the line this season, and I strived to make this season my best, and most enjoyable. This is mostly because this was the final year getting the opportunity to put on my red and black jersey every tournament. It was my last season traveling around the country with my teammates every weekend with one goal, to win, and it was my last season to improve my skills all around, in an attempt to further my basketball career into college. During the first few practices I was nervous for how the season would go because I noticed my coach was a lot harder on me than he was to my teammates and I did not know how to take that at first.I was not used to to his coaching style of being loud, in your face, and tough, or his emphasis on "perfection" because on my past teams I was used to being the best person on the team, and my coach rarely had negative criticism for me, so I took his intense coaching style terribly.
I have been playing high school basketball as a Lady Hornet since my freshman year, and I firmly believe that I have given tremendous effort into being the most valuable player that I can be. Ever since I was a child, I have had an immense passion for the game of basketball. My mother played collegiate basketball at William Carey University, so all throughout my childhood, she was my main inspiration to play. I will be forever indebted to her for pushing me to play the fantastic sport of basketball because I have no idea who I would be without it. While playing this sport for almost thirteen years, I have learned many valuable lessons along the way that have influenced the way I live out my life.
It was a sad day nothing could make me happy anymore. I had been sad from the first moment I read the paper. I kept reading the list I must have read it at least ten times. Over and over again kept seeing the same names. None of the names were mine. I had finally realized I did not make the team. I was heartbroken all I have ever wanted just slipped out of my grasp. “It’s ok you’ll make it next year”, said my friend Warren. But what he couldn’t understand was that I wanted it to happen that year. I wanted to make the basketball team that year.
I ran back into my house and took my basketball from its case on my chest. I ran back down the stairs and stormed out of my house, trying to get my breath back while sweating profusely, and got back on the bus. The bus was filled with excited young peers’ ready to attend the first day of classes at a familiar school with friends; however, I had no reason to be happy. I was without my long time friends who I spent ten wonderful years with at Yeshiva Ohr Chaim. Nevertheless, I used my basketball as a means to get me through my first day of school because it was and will always be my “insurance policy.”
Basketball is a big part of my life, one year ago in tournament final game two of our best players were hurt and the team was relying on me. With the time winding down on the clock we were down 8 points. Somehow I got our deficit down to two points with 30 seconds left, after an intense defensive stop 10 seconds remained on the clock; our coach called a timeout. A play was drawn up for me to take the shot. Mitchell inbounded the ball to me as I came off of a screen, I had an some-what wide open shot, I took the shot, you could hear the crowd go silent as the ball left my hand and headed towards the basketball. It felt like everything was going slow motion, the ball was getting closer and closer to the hoop and I…….missed it. The buzzer sounded
I shot two hundred baskets every night before I went in for dinner over the summer, not because I enjoyed I it, but because my mom wouldn't let me inside If I didn't. My life was consumed by the game of basketball. I remember when I used to admire everything about the gym; the smell of the hardwood floors, the sound of the rubber basketballs smacking the ground, the sweat shimmering on the court, the harsh yellow lights gleaming down from the ceiling. It made my fingers tingle, and a rush of adrenaline stemmed throughout my body. Hours of practice, camps, and games added up, and I was one of the best players in town. My priorities were as follows; athletics, family, and then school. Basketball was my only focus and it soon started to show
I didn’t care I still tried out. The cheers they had us do were easy the jumps were jumps I was doing in first grade. I made the team. I was happy even though deep down I was upset that I could be on the worst team in history. So as I started on the team, I soon realized that my idiot brother had no idea what he was talking about and it was a good team. I wanted to go back to my old coach so that I could learn how to do a back hand spring because everywhere I went I just couldn’t get myself to do it. Some coaches told me that it might be because I don’t trust them enough to do it. So I had a private class with her before her normal cheer practices. We were working on my round offs and cart wheels when she walked away to go answer her phone I went for my round off and didn’t land right and fell because it felt like my knee gave out. I got up and kept trying. When it was time for her teams to practice I was sitting on the floor in pain doing stretches with the girls thinking maybe if I just stretch it out itll feel better it didn’t I ignored it for a while till I went home and took my shoes off my foot swelled up like a balloon. I could barely walk
I remember the first time I played basketball when I was eleven years old. Seventh grade was an epiphany to me, I started trying different instruments, joined different clubs, and learned a bunch of other things about myself in the process. Uneducated, I didn’t know a single thing about what I was doing and ended up running around the court equivalent to a lost puppy. But as the season went on, I ended up having a few of the utmost exciting times of my life, and ended up trying out for the team again in eighth grade. Losing just about every game didn’t matter to us, us girls just kept laughing, smiling, and playing the whole time, despite the score on the board.
I figured that I had grown about five inches since my freshman year and had gotten stronger it might be time to play basketball competitively once more. When November rolled around I was on the varsity team, but unfortunately my basketball skills was not up to par. It was tough at first, because I was a new face on the team, and the guys on the team had a great chemistry that they had built up throughout the years. After a few weeks had rolled by, I realized that I would not be in the rotation.I told myself that the team’s success is more important than my personal desired statistics.I decided to make the most of my role on the team. It was a tradition for the guys who were not in the rotation to contribute to the game in some way, guys did this by preforming stunts after significant plays and momentum shifts in the game in our favor. This was great because the crowd loved and it and more importantly my teammates fed off of the
Ever since I was a little boy, about eight years old or so, I had an extreme passion for the sport of basketball. On weekends, I would wake up in the morning, eat a bowl of frosted flakes or cheerios, put on basketball shorts and then go in my driveway to shoot around. I would be out there for hours just shooting around or playing with some random kids that I would occasionally see walking around my neighborhood. This was satisfaction to me, but even better was playing on multiple public teams and not just playing in my driveway every day. In elementary school, I played in a recreational league, just like almost every other kid who tries out basketball when they were younger. This was fun and all but it was nothing too serious. There were never any practices, it was just one or two unorganized games per week. I never took
It was July 23, 2015, a day I’d always remember. At this time I had committed my time primarily to basketball and had become a really successful point guard. I was finally finding myself on the court and had worked hard to earn my spot as our captain. We had won both of our previous games, sending us straight to the championship bracket. I knew this was our game to win. After mentally preparing myself, it was time to start the game. This is it, everything I’ve worked so hard for was now coming into motion. I walked out onto the court with pure confidence in myself. We won the tip off and the ball was in my hands. My body flying down the court, I was truly unstoppable. In this lasting moment, I felt I had reached a new level of skill, and had never felt so confident. We were dominating the team and had a steady lead. Little did I know my favorite sport, my outlet for life and my passion was
It was the end of 7th grade, it was summertime on the hot days of New Hampshire. I remember getting home from the bus happy, it was the beginning of the summer. When I get off my bus, I grab two basketballs and head back outside. I knew what I was doing, I was training for the 8th-grade basketball team. I know I was ready. I start off doing ball handling drills, then I go and work on my jump shot. I did this every day for about 2 weeks. The next week, my dad offers me to go to the gym with him at the health club in Concord. I immediately said yes because I knew the health club had a full-sized basketball court. We get there and I do all my training and my dad helped me out the whole time. When we got in the car I remember him saying
Basketball tryouts were this week and I real like basketball so I decided to sign up. Tryouts didn't start till 5 so I had a whole hour to get ready. I think I'm actually really good at basketball. I'm probably going to be the best guy in the team. I mean basketball ever scene I was eight years old. It was 4:30, almost time for basketball so I grabbed my things. As I was waking out of the house I remember my shoes how could I have almost forgotten my shoes that's the most important thing that is needed in sports. My shoes are gray high top basketball shoes. They can make me jump three times higher than I usually jump.
Down two with six seconds to go fatigue had taken it tolls on the players. With little energy left; over time was not an option. I knew I had to go for the win. I walk on the floor confident of my ability that was until the whistle blew quickly turning my confident to butterflies. As I fought to get open I quickly saw the ball coming my way. As I rose for a jump shot time itself began to stay still. An in flesh everything became silent. As I watch the ball leave my hand I envisioned greatness; sure the ball was on its way in I started to celebrate that was until I hear the announcer say my teammate tip in miss shot to win us the game. Mix with emotion I celebrate with my teammate. “Ok guys, we have 24 hours until tip off. Get some rest because this is going to be the biggest game of your life. Let’s bring this championship back to Barton College. Go Bulldogs and Goodnight!” Why few players stay in the lobby to hang out I took it talk upon to work on my game and reflect on the semifinal game that just took place. At basketball games you will notice how there are all sorts of fans attending the game.
With goal setting as a foundation for my daughter’s last year of high school basketball, she will be more motivated to continue pursuing sport related activities in the future. She did run with me in the Peachtree Road Race this year and during spring break, she hiked with me in Arizona on some difficult trails. So, she does consider physical fitness and eating healthy to be priorities in her life. However, to get her motivated to set the goals I just discussed and continue playing basketball will be the challenge. I believe she is most likely an outcome-oriented failure avoider. She focuses on social comparison, but fears failing in front of her friends. I think that is why she doesn’t shoot the ball very much. She is afraid someone will make fun of her shots, for example. When she is on the court, she displays a high motivation to avoid failure versus seeking maximum learning and improvement. I believe she sacrifices learning to avoid displaying low