It was a beautiful and sunny Sunday, about 80 degrees, just a normal day - soccer game, then alone time. I had never been so wrong. It was game day; we played the 4th-ranked team in Ohio, and it was going to be a tough game. As I got in the car, to the left of me was my dad, giving the same old speech about sunscreen, even though I never listened. The sun was gleaming down through the sunroof onto my face, making it difficult to see. After the two-hour drive to Dayton, I got out of the car only to see my team warming up. I hurried over to the bench, got my stuff on, warmed up, and it was game time. The other team was all 6 feet tall compared to my small team; they were giants. Kickoff, we had the ball first and gave it away right off the bat. …show more content…
Yep, it was the bone. I stood up and walked over to the bench; my coach took one good look and asked me if I was ready to go back in. I was in too much pain to say anything. I got a little ice pack on the bench and waited for my dad's friend to take me to the hospital. Both my parents were an hour away, either running errands or at my brother's soccer game. We rushed to the hospital; as we got there, the lady at the front desk looked as dull as my pencil. I could tell she did not want to be there, but anyway, we got into the room, and they hooked up my pulse and temperature. They gave me fentanyl through my nose to ease the pain. It kicked in instantly; they needed to take an x-ray to see what the actual issue was. As they slid the board under my arm, my wrist rotated, and the pain was like being shot in the wrist multiple times. They took the x-ray, and it turned out it was broken all the way through in 2 spots, and I had fractured the radius, which was serious. I was going to need surgery, unfortunately. Around this time, my mom arrived at the …show more content…
It was a long and painful drive home because my painkillers were at CVS in Zionsville. As I dozed off, I could faintly hear my mom's music fading off, and slowly it went silent... I woke up, it was about 5 PM in Zionsville. We were home, and I needed to take a nap. As we arrived at the house, I changed clothes and tried to take a nap, but I could not sleep. I felt my pulse in my whole arm; it felt like 100 bees were stinging at every beat, THUD THUD THUD. Next thing I knew, the sun was beaming into my eyes, and it was time for surgery. As I got out of bed, my arm started to throb in pain like the night before. I got dressed, ate, then headed off to St. Vincent to get it done. The surgery was at 2, but we left at 10:30. When we got there, my dad drove around the hospital about five times trying to find orthopedics. We walked in, checked in, and were guided to the room. My parents are divorced but get along; my mom met me and my dad in the room. I went into the room, and the nurse made me change into a gown, which was comfortable. In my imagination, the IV would be the worst part, but that did not even hurt. All that happened was a needle going into my arm with a straw on it. They hooked up the drip, and now all we had to do was wait for Dr. Barrios to get done with his other surgery. While waiting, I was not allowed to eat, but I still decided to watch a food show to pass the time. It
Dr. Wright asked me if I was okay, and not wanting to say that I wasn't, I answered yes. My body started to shake, and I felt like I was in an icebox. I have never been so scared in my whole life, and fear covered me like a thick heavy blanket. The nurses strapped both of my arms down so that I wouldn't move, and an oxygen mask was placed over my nose and mouth. A green sheet was raised high, and positioned in front of me to conceal me from surgery. The anesthesiologist issued me more anesthesia, and I felt a cold rush as is dispersed throughout my body. I don't know if it was my nerves or the way the mask that was placed on my face, but I could hardly breathe correctly. I felt like my fear of dying was coming true, but I wasn't going to go without a fight. I could not get the energy to mutter any words to let the nurses know that I could not breathe, so I started to wiggle my nose and mouth to position the oxygen mask away from my face. Since all of the healthcare professionals were positioned on the other side of the green sheet, they didn't notice what I was doing. Breathing deeply, I relaxed as I could finally breathe normally with the oxygen mask on the side of my face. I was alone in that room, and I had no idea what they were doing to me. I prayed what seemed like 15 prayers for it to be over, and be able to see Kai already. Suddenly, I heard a faint whimper and a rush of footsteps. I looked around trying to get a glimpse of what was happening. A minute later I see this beautiful, flushed faced little baby being placed in my view by his father and every negative emotion left my body. The noise in the room fell silent, and it was just him and I. I was in love, and I could not stop smiling. I lifted my arms to hold him, forgetting that I was still strapped down. I continued to stare into his angelic face with joy, and I vowed that no harm will ever come to my son. Randy
One incident that happened to me that change how I thought about sports was when I first started playing soccer. It all started when my mom said that I should join a sport to get me more active. It took me awhile to choose soccer at first because there were so many sports to choose from. I told my mom I wanted to play soccer. She signed me up to play for a non competitive league (GYSA) so I can learn the basics of the sport. She also told me to play I would have to maintain good grades. After hearing that i always tried my best in soccer and school.
While I was in high school, I joined the soccer team. There were 15 girls in a team. There were three girls, whose last name was Lepcha. Who think that they play better soccer then everybody in a team and they do play well but not good as they thought they were. They had started playing soccer for one or two years ago. There were two other girls, whose name was Sabina and Dilu. They were my best friends. My one friend Sabina had played soccer for quite long and she played well but she did not have an attitude as Lepcha did. My second friend was Dilu; she was not that good at soccer. It was her first time playing soccer just like me. I do not know other people who were on a soccer team but the one thing I know about them was that it was their
Growing up in El Salvador, soccer was a sport that significantly impacted my childhood. My cousins and uncles taught me how to play soccer, as well as various techniques that would later benefit me on the soccer field. At the age of seven I started to play for one of most well-known soccer clubs in El Salvador. Practicing twenty three hours a week was really paying off, as I could see in my medal and trophy gain. Not only did they represent my accomplishments, but they also gave joy to my teammates, community, and family because they were the people who encouraged me to give my best. Playing soccer was also a way to release stress because when my family was going through hardships, it was easier for me to let all of my negative energy on the
I have never played a single second in a game of soccer in my life, and people said I should play soccer because I am really good at it. So it was back in Kindergarten when we started doing soccer for a PE lesson. And as kids they wouldn’t be as good as kids like in 2nd Grade so they taught us how to kick the ball, how to play the game, what to do,etc. The main thing we had to learn was kicking the ball. The teachers just taught us how to kick the ball. Just kick the ball. So people were wondering why I didn’t like soccer. So I started playing and i was thinking “this is a game The don’t play on TV” because my dad would only watch baseball and football as sports so I was a little bit confused what we were doing. Then once around 1st Grade when we
I've recently came to the realization that plying full time soccer from when I was 5 years old to now has put a toll on my body.
My mom was laying down next to me rubbing my head and trying to make me laugh. We were all waiting for my surgeon to come to take me in. At one point, the surgeon came and told me to kiss my parents and say goodbye, I got scared because I thought I wasn’t gonna see them again, I thought they were gonna leave me forever. I started crying and tried to run away. I was kicking, screaming, and making up excuses so that they can let me go. Two nurses hold me down and tried to calm me down. The surgeon put a mask on me and told me to count to ten. The mask smelled like cherries, I couldn’t resist not to smell it. The room was spinning and all of a sudden it was pitch
As I was growing up I always had a personal goal to play sports. My parents never had the extra money for it though. Despite the lack of money, it never stopped me from trying to pursue my goal. One year, when I was in the 7th grade the answer was finally yes! The joy I felt when I heard that three letter word was the same joy of opening presents on Christmas morning. The road to my goal was beginning to become visible.
Every day I would come home from a grueling soccer practice and notice the searing pain creeping up the side of my leg. It was only turf burn, but bad enough that every time I would go back out onto the pitch I would reopen my cut, peeling the skin back to the flesh with every tackle I made. Today, the scars on my knees are not only a constant reminder of the battles the game of soccer present, but of the twelve long years of hard work, dedication and most importantly amusement.
It was an eventful summer, or you could say a summer with one major event. July sixteenth in particular was that one day that stood out bolder than the rest. It has been over a decade since the time I started investing my summers with sports practices and games. Each year, I took it up a notch. I didn’t really know how I felt about sports. When I was younger, I continually nurtured my skills for a future I didn't even see. Much like how I used to always read. The vocabulary, grammar, and structure I gained knowledge from reading didn't seem to matter back then. Until sixth grade, I really didn’t have a spark that motivated me to do anything. I believe the exact phrase my friend Emily said was, “I will teepee your house every single night until you decide to try out for Citadel.” This Citadel travel soccer team is what gave me better sense of who I was.
The sport that can catch my eye as fast as light is soccer. Soccer is basically what I do during the weekends and some weekdays. I have dedicated nine years into this sport and it has been what has carried me through life.. Soccer to me is like the beach to others. Anytime they can they’ll try to get out and go to the beach and enjoy themselves. Whenever I have an opportunity too I’ll go outside as fast as I can and play my heart out. Soccer has gotten me through the best and worst times of my life and I would not be the person I am today without it. People may describe this sport as two teams running back and forth for a ball, but the way I see it is completely different. I see the different set ups and plays people are going to do. I see
I focused almost all of the first seventeen years of my life on playing ball. I loved the image and friends that came with it. Soccer was the only life I knew and it gave me a sense of belonging and gratification. That life ended a couple of weeks before my senior year soccer season when I destroyed my knee. At times I wonder what my life would be like if that never happened to me, but I’m glad it did. Losing soccer pushed me to evolve in a minor hobby of mine, painting.
Stepping onto the sun-kissed soccer field, I felt a surge of adrenaline course through my veins. It was a hot summer day, and the anticipation of the upcoming match against our arch-rivals had me on edge. Little did I know, this game would be more than just a battle for victory—it would become a test of resilience and determination. Growing up, soccer was my passion. From the moment I could walk, I had a ball at my feet, dreaming of one day playing professionally.
I played a lot of sports growing up, but my main focus was soccer. My mother had put me in soccer when I was around three because I had too much energy, and I don't think she thought soccer was going to be such a big part of my life. I was never really a shy person growing up and I think soccer was a big part of that because I was always around a lot of other people. Also through soccer I had also learned what it meant to be a part of a team and learned how to communicate and work with others. I played soccer in a club league and I also played in middle school and high school. During my club season I had met a lot of girls who were worried about college recruitment. I had never really thought about playing college soccer before until this point.
It was a chilly, but still very sunny day in mid September. The birds chirped and the sun shined. All was good. That weekend my travel soccer team and I went to a New England Revolution game. We all went to Hannaford to meet up together. Once we were all accounted for our head coach began to list off what van people were traveling in. Multiple shrieks erupted out of the girls as they were being separated from their best friends. Our coach thought it would be good for us to mingle with the other teammates that we usually don't talk to. As we all hopped in our vans and said our goodbyes to our best friends from then on our journey had just begun.