Personal Narrative: My First Basketball Team

833 Words2 Pages

Never thought an ending could come so quick. Lying on the floor, not able to move while my left knee is throbbing with massive amounts of pain, tears running down my cheeks, and just wishing this was all a dream. How could this be happening all at once? Not realizing what this meant, what was going to happen, and what the future holds. I remember getting carried off the court by my coaches Barry and Buck. Barry, my head coach, was bulky and dumpy. Buck, my assistant coach, was lanky and brawny. Two completely different individuals, but I liked Barry better. Buck could be such a pester sometimes, while Barry was warm. The look on his face still eats me alive. I could see the water works forming before he even approached me. I read him like a …show more content…

Before any of this happen, I had nothing to complain about. My junior year of high school was remotely the best yet. For sports, I achieved countless goals in volleyball and basketball. In volleyball, I was named to an all-conference team, and was ranked third, overall, in the KSAC. However, we made playoffs this year as well, but it was a huge deal due to the fact that we were ranked seventh, meaning we would host a home playoff game. I remember my heart rising as I first serve received a ball, my nerves hovering when it became match point, and devoting myself to the game. My team and I fell short, but it is a time I will forever cherish. My coach, Julie, stood strong headed, impassioned, and motivated. She was gratified with how hard we worked the whole season. In basketball, I was also named to an all-conference team plus an all-district team. Our program at my high school struggled over the years, but this year was a whole new look. We won over eleven games, advancing to the playoffs. Our first playoff game started out slow. Shots were not falling, but then we came out explosive in the second half, outscoring our opponent. Victory never smelt so incredible. My sister, Shaley, and I grasped each other tightly, and cried with joy. This was not the end quit yet. The second round was going to be trickier, so my team and I knew we had to put a whole, solid week of work in. The stretch was over, and it was time to put our game faces on. The atmosphere surrounding us was arousing and unforgettable. The earsplitting racket was off the tables. The ecstatic enthusiasm crowded the air. All the tension was building up inside such a small region. Hearing the high-pitching whistle noise meant the rivalry has begun. We were on fire with a twelve-0 run. The energy was bouncing off the walls. My teammates on the bench were going crazy, like monkeys crying for a banana. I felt like a whole new person inside. But after halftime,

Open Document