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It was a foggy early morning. As I jogged around the high school track, I was thinking of how hard it would be playing on a high school soccer team. It was my first year in high school, and I had been confident of making the Varsity team. I kept jogging around the track, since it was the last day of the three day tryouts, and, of course, the last day is the fitness test. In fitness test, we had to run two miles around the track in less than 17 minutes. As I jogged around the track, I was sweating so hard I felt like quitting. I had worked all summer for this opportunity to make the team and to become a Varsity player, so I couldn’t let this opportunity get out of my hands. In fact I’m in love with soccer so much that if I needed to, I would
I have always loved sports and the competitiveness that comes along with them. In so doing, I have decided to eventually become either a high school or college coach at some point in my life. Subsequently, I decided to interview the Vilonia High School Cross Country Coach, Coach Sisson. As I walked into her office, I instantly noticed all of the trophies and team photos from all of the past years of coaching. She is also the school nurse so her office has first aid equipment intermingled into the trophies and team pictures. While I set up my notes and questions for the interview on one of the desks in her office, she was finishing up a diagnosis of one of the high school students who felt sick. After her patient left, I quickly started the interview in order to waste no time. She began with how she got involved in coaching. The Vilonia School District expressed their interest to her as being the next cross country coach several years ago. She was widely known for her passion for running and she gratefully accepted the position and has been a coach for numerous years now.
He didn’t waste a minute and started training the next week, a month before the actual preseason practices began. He hired a personal trainer to help him get ready for the preseason. His trainer was a lot more vigorous than the trainers at college had been. As he trained, he concentrated on other things so that the pain wouldn’t get to his mind. Damian’s dream had always been to be a star soccer player and to make his parents happy. The...
This past spring, was my first year running track and field at a high school level. I had spent my freshman year on the lacrosse team and had therefore missed out on track and field. From the other sports I had participated in at school, both coaches and fellow teammates had acknowledged my speed, this kept my confidence alive and made me believe I would strive in high school track
To be a part of the squad for my schools' soccer team has been one of my life's goals and has finally been fulfilled. My previous attempts to get on my high school soccer team in Jamaica failed because I wasn't skilled enough at the time. Since arriving to the United States, I have trained diligently and have accomplished my goal of making my school's soccer team.
They told me I wasn’t good enough. I couldn’t be better than him. I could never start. I could not make the varsity team. All these negative comments brought me down to the point where I considered quitting baseball. But I had little hope of making the varsity team that spring of my sophmore year. That little hope that I had turned into going to the batting cages everyday, joining an off season baseball team and running four miles every night to be better than I was. I wanted to prove everyone who doubted me wrong. I wanted them to see my progress. I wanted to catch the head coach of the baseball varsity team’s eye. I wanted to see my name on the varsity
•When I was 14 years old, one day a man named John Cossaboon, the coach of the women’s soccer Olympic Development team, came to watch me play. A few days later, I found out he wanted me to join his team. Then, John knew I was ready for bigger challenges, so he called his friend Anson Dorrance the coach of the National Team and
Tryouts are an athlete’s least desired activity, including my own. They make me fearful which ultimately developed through self-doubt. Doubt that I am not experienced enough, fast enough, or skilled enough. Yet, at the time of soccer tryouts, on Tuesday, July 28th, 2015, I felt none of these emotions. With my team’s prior success, we promoted to a higher level, overall boosting the morale of my team. As captain, players of my team unanimously voted that I would receive one of the 18 spots on the 2015-2016 team. Tryouts, the one critical factor, stood between that team and me. Transformation and triumph then came into my soccer career, but only after a period of failure.
In 2013, I was a lousy soccer player, and I knew it. This was my first year of playing the sport since the age of five, and I myself at eleven was ready to quit before the first practice ended. By some miracle I had made the competitive team, and ironically, I wasn’t very competitive
As the first meet neared, things were going well. I made it onto the 4x100 team making me the third fastest kid on the team. The other members of the relay were Jason Schmidt, Jeremy Willard and Rodney Schmidt. Jason and Jeremy were both the top dogs and Rodney and I were second from the bottom of the barrel.
Now that I knew the ropes, I was praying this tryout would be a breeze. I could not have been farther from the truth. I faithfully practiced every evening until the eagerly anticipated day. The same nervous energy overwhelmed my body as I walked onto the floor that afternoon. It seemed that within a second, the tryout was completed. Once again, I was forced to calmly wait for the crucial results. Finally the outcome was announced. “Varsity- Kristin Callaway, Jill Jackson, Katie Manley…” I had made the Varsity squad as a sophomore.
We had only gotten half way around the track before I started to wonder why I wanted to do field day. I was too hot, too hot to run, too hot to wear this uniform, it was just too hot out. Soon running became jogging, jogging became walking and walking became just trying to keep myself from stopping and falling asleep right there on the track, with sixth graders --big, scary, and sometimes mean sixth graders.
I am a person that loves playing sports and loves running. One of my favorites sport is soccer. I love playing soccer is a sport the motivates me. I started playing soccer when I was 5 years old, it’s a sport I have continue in till today. I would play for Chatham Soccer League, my position in the field is any position but I would play has goalkeeper. Chatham Soccer league was a travel team we would have tournaments every season. One of my best experience playing for this team was that coaches from Greensboro United would always tell me how good I did in the field, in that moment I felt proud of myself because I was always discouraged about myself. One of my main goal in life was to play for the girls soccer varsity team in high school my freshman
I slowly tread toward the field. The dewey grass made my cleats slightly damp. I donned my glove to prepare for the game with my team. Excited, I sprinted out on the field.
Thank your for choosing soccer out of all the things you could have done. Soccer has been a part of your life and has kept you from doing potentially bad things. Soccer was a way to get stress out because you would go down to tremont park by yourself and shoot for hours and not think about anything else. I am proud you have made it this far, you don’t have to focus on being the best player but realize that you have love and passion for the game. Sports have kept you healthy and busy and I don’t know what else you would be doing if you didn’t play them. Your passion for the game has been reflected by the way you play throughout the years. There have been many people to help and encourage you along your journey. Soccer has helped you in many ways you couldn’t imagine including keeping your grades up, relieving stress, keeping you from doing bad things, and making you new friends.
I walked down the sidewalk, I was late to get home because Josie-my friend- was supposed to drive me home after soccer practice but she had ditched me. I looked at my phone reading 8:54 and I watched it change over to 8:55. I sighed, my feet were getting so sore, and my jersey was covered in blood where the ball had hit me in th...