I pick up the three point five foot lacrosse stick. I held it in my hand for the first time; it felt exceptional in the way it fit. The aluminum shaft was an acceptable, light weighted stick. It was not the most durable , yet it had a cold hard feeling. I went home that day excited about my new stick that I had gotten. Immediately after getting out of the car I ran to the biggest wall I could find and started playing wall ball. I noticed the battered down string tied to the head of the stick. The net was more yellow, brown than anything else. Even though the original color was white. The hard work that previous player of the stick had put into it had faded the string down. The battered down string was a resemblance of the time and effort that …show more content…
The brown bricks stacked as one to form a unbeatable bond that could not be broken down, as if all the bricks were working together to stay in place. I tried to throw the ball in the same place every time. The wall reminded me of my team, and how we have to work together to succeed. We have to create that bond as cement between the bricks. Creating this with my team will allow us to be unified. If one of the bricks gave up the whole wall would fall. Everyone has to do their part so that we can succeed. If one brick is loose than there will be more weight on another. Just like if there was one player slacking, someone else would have to pick up their slack. Everyone must contribute their all to be the strongest …show more content…
I had played many games with this stick and it had eventually became very dented. There was many bumps in the stick which allowed me to realize that in the beginning of the year when I first started playing lacrosse I was very selfish with the ball. I wasn't passing the ball to my team like I should have been. It was always a first look to the goal which was selfish of me. Since my stick was beat up, I wanted a shaft that was durable. I came to a decision of getting a silver warrior shaft. A metallic grey with a dull shine to it. The color reminded me of a sharp, bold player. The switch from the sluggish aluminium stick to the powerful, vigorous metallic shaft felt impeccable. The warrior felt calm in my hands, as if it reminded me to make the smarter move. Rather than the selfish shot that I would usually take. As I played my first game with my new stick I felt a shift in the way I played. I was very calm and aware of my surroundings. The ball came my way and as I caught it I scanned the field for an open teammate. Instead of automatically ripping a shot. I seen a cut made from my friend, I passed him the ball. He caught it and shot, I saw the ball hit the back of the net and jumped with joy. I walked off the field feeling happy that we had scored and tied the game to bring us back.
The Brick wall symbolizes Bobby and how he is disconnected from friends and family, "Everything is clean brown brick, and off in the shadows of some brownstone. Where the hell
In “Its Time to Think About Visors,” Dryden exposes the fact that the stereotypes of risk in sport have pushed athletes to continue to compromise safety even with advancements in equipment worn. Dryden first explores this while talking about players from the minor leagues who have worn visors for all of their lives reaching the NHL and then stopping, stating, “Then most decide to play as they had never had before, with no facial protection at all.” This shows that even with athletes that have had this safety all of their lives they decide to stop when they reach the NHL because they see the stereotype created by the fans watching that push these players to risk their safety in order to bring a new excitement to the game. Even though the new rookies have been protected by visors the amount of influence of the huge fans of hockey pressure into danger that before they were safe from. In addition to this Dryden adds how there is appeal towards the dangers of life expressing, “People are attracted to risk. Near misses are thrilling.” This demonstrates that audiences don’t want to see players seriously injured but instead the close calls that come with sport and the smaller injuries that some equipment has gotten rid
SOI-The purpose of this creative piece of writing is an entry from one of our hockey games from tournament. I have tried to use a connection to compare battle or war to hockey, to make the story become more brutal and realistic. I have written in first person to show that it is in my perspective and what I recollect from the game.
Every time I play lacrosse I feel like I am a part of something greater than myself. Being a part of something greater than myself, being changed in my life forever has made me think and feel whenever I play lacrosse. When I was younger playing lacrosse was a learning experience. Playing with more skilled or less skilled girls in lacrosse and playing different positions except for one every game, practice and scrimmage all the time makes me get a different perspective. Playing lacrosse for quick sticks has changed my life forever.
Spring is a great time to get started in Lacrosse. It is a sport that is rapidly growing through the U.S., mainly in the east, but catching on everywhere. It is much different than anything you have seen with a combination of hockey, football, and soccer. You’ve got to try this one-of -a-kind sport, but first you must know the basics, checking, history and the continuous rules and penalties.
Lacrosse Shafts have evolved along with the game. Originally, players used sticks made of hickory wood that was heavy. But, industrialization has gotten us metal alloys, and even carbon fiber to use in the lacrosse shafts. These lightweight materials have had an enormous impact on the game to make it the game we know now. Let's see how it has impacted the game and what each new thing is capable of creating.
My tan old glove, I had had for as long as I can remember. It’s brand was Mizuno, it was a 10 inch glove. When I first put it on it was like my dream come true, but the last time I put it on it wasn't as dreamy, I didn’t like it as much as before. I remember the worn down leather running down my hand. I could barely read the word Mizuno on the front of the the glove. My hand could barely fit in it. Even my Dad wanted me to get a new one. But to me it was still just a tan baseball glove, with some use to it. A baseball glove couldn’t really make a difference between a good and great player could it?
As more of my teammates began to show up, I recognized most of them. However, I learned later that if I went on to play in the Spring, this would not be the same exact team I would play with. With only twenty minutes until we began,I put on all of my gear and my dad gave me a thorough warm up. Time seemed to fly by, and before I knew it, everyone was gathered together as positions were being assigned. I was originally overwhelmed with excitement, but as the game drew closer, the joy I had felt was replaced with anxiety. The lacrosse game taking place before ours ended and we entered and took our place on our bench. I recognized the opposing team’s jerseys quickly and identified them as a travel team from our area. Taking one final breath, I rushed into the lacrosse net enjoying my bird’s eye view, unsure of what was to
William Faulkner brings all aspects of the game to life by going beyond the game itself, and immersing the readers into the intricate details that are often overlooked by most spectators. While spectators and televised sports commentators focus on the literal game itself, the points and teams, Faulkner describes the “kaleidoscopic whirl” of motion, the grace of the players and the designs they carve into the ice. He goes beyond the typical description of skates and hockey sticks, depicting them as “knife blades of skates” and “deft sticks which could break bones.” Faulkner, through this fluid and detail oriented writing, portrays the game of hockey in a way most people fail to see.
Not only do I adore reading, but also I am also passionate about playing sports, and also love to express myself through my art. Recently, I started to play lacrosse and immediately fell in love with the game. Lacrosse became my everything and I spent my days begging my dad to throw the ball for “just five minutes”. I am planning on trying out for the Woodson team in Spring, and track and field in the Winter. Because of lacrosse, I learned that I love running as well. I am currently on the Woodson Cross country team and am having the time of my life. Along with playing sports, My free time is spent outside, painting whatever comes to mind. It is comforting and my stress just seems to melt away whenever my brush is in motion. Though I have
Lacrosse is a sport that needs many different skills to play. It is a highly skilled game and the players that are good at it need to be rewarded. Lacrosse is a tough sport to play and it is getting more popular throughout the years, which means more people will watch it. If you add Lacrosse to the Olympic it will bring more people to the games and to watch it on TV, it will make the games more money. It also has a very good history that will honor many people.
When building walls, or choosing not to, personal experiences and knowledge should always be taken into consideration. In order to decipher when it’s appropriate to put up walls and when it is not, we must give ourselves time to not only think but to absorb what has occurred. Walls are put up for all different types of reasons. In some cases, they are necessary and in others, they tend to not make much sense. In Robert Frost’s poem “Mending Wall,” the wall built between the two properties makes complete sense to the neighbor, but to the narrator it is unreasonable and hard to decipher.
The poem “Mending Wall” begins by the narrator telling is that there is a wall that is constantly being taken down by nature, and the narrator and his neighbor have to keep re-building it. But as the poem progresses, the narrator becomes unsure with himself, and begins to say that there is a wall “There where it is we do not need the wall” (23). He starts to question why a wall is there, knowing that he can never get across it to his neighbor. As the poem keeps progressing, he learns that the wall is there because of his neighbors tradition from his father, and he ends up saying “Something there is that doesn’t love a wall that wants it down (35), and he is talking about himself. In the progression of this poem, we see the narrator’s character change from someone who is persistent to someone who has hatred for what he is doing. He becomes more aware, having an epiphany, learning that there is truly no need for a wall, and it is only there because his neighbor is following his father’s tradition that requires him to keep the wall up. Through this characterization, we see that by only one side having hatred for the other, it can cause a division between them, because one person disagrees with the other. Through this poem, we see many character changes amongst the narrator, but one character that stays the same
In "Mending Wall" the main character finds gaps in the fence. I believe the emotions between the characters make these gaps. He informs the neighbor and together they repair the fence with boulders. When they meet they argue or have communication problems. This is why they manage to repair the barricade between them. However, I would say that their emotions, especially the main character’s, try to get the boulders off balance so the wall can be leveled with the ground. The balancing of boulders is a symbol of their meetings; "We have to use a spell to make them balance". "We wear our fingers rough", the author writes about the handling of the boulders. One may interpret this to signify that the meetings between these two "neighbors" are very hard on them.
Every single chair in the arena was taken. It was difficult to describe the noise; the cheering fans, couches talking to the players, players chatting to each other, etc. The arena was built to muffle the sound of 1000 people, but that afternoon it was like a sponge that couldn't absorb anymore. Being under so many eyes, brought both fear and motivation to me. This game was unlike other games to me. It was not just regular season game, it seemed like a war for me and I wished to get out of this battlefield with victory. I thrilled to accomplish something so phenomenal as to surpass a record, I was stubborn to be someone unique the "Great One" was. I knew everybody would play their best to win the game and trophy. Once the game started I clenched my hand around the hockey stick and told myself that I have to win this game no matter what happens. The hushing sound made by the skates on the ice was very annoying, but I tried to forget about it and put hundred percent efforts on my game, my "War". When I got the puck bunch of players I began advancing with extraordinary speed, like a jet. The opponent players were rushing toward me like I was their worst enemy. Even though I was fully "armed" but still it was thrilling to stand there get pinched against the glass like a lemon. Bruises from the last game had already made every part of my body sore; getting his by the deadly puck was enough to take of that matter. But I didn't care I wanted to win and touch that trophy. The feeling of having my hand wrapped around the stick gave me more confidence. I was lucky to make some exemplary moves and this caused the crowd to roar. It seemed the stick was a person that I could rely on. The smell of compact air in the arena and the taste of sweat dropping from my nose to my mouth made me feel a little bit dizzy, it gave me the feeling of being in vacuum. There were less than two minutes left to the end of the game and I could see the victory right before my eyes.