Personal Narrative Essay: The Joy Of Joining Hockey

In terms of joining the sport of hockey I was a late bloomer. Most kids join when they are around the age of four, while I joined when I was in the fourth grade. Thinking back I realize that I really didn’t want to join after all. It was just a spur of the moment decision heavily influenced by my father and my best friend at the time, both of whom played hockey. As time went on I realized there was no changing my mind, at least not as long as I was a part of this family. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t hate it; I just had a rough start. Because I joined at a late age I had some catching up to do. This was difficult, especially in the eyes of a fourth grader who wasn’t used to any conflict. To me the only reason I was joining hockey was the hope to make my parents happy. We pulled up to the yellow building in our car, that was groaning as though it could physically feel the cold. I felt the sensation of dread as I got out of the car and got my hockey bag out. As walked into the designated locker room I noticed a only a few girls. After struggling with getting dressed I headed out to

Almost everyday my brother, sister, dad, and I went down to our basement to shoot pucks. Before practicing lifting the puck was similar to a baby bird trying to fly, but after a while I slowly started to lift the puck, and with that came more power. After one really tough practice, I finally told my parents about the stress and pressure that I felt I was under. They understood how I was feeling and told me that it was my decision on whether or not I wanted to keep playing. They wanted to me to to actually enjoy it, and if I didn’t it was not a big deal if I decided not to play anymore. After that conversation I made a decision that I was going to stick with it because I now felt as though I wanted to prove that I could do it. Everything was starting to take a turn for the