Soccer Narrative

1028 Words3 Pages

“Get up Jeff, it’s time for soccer practice,” my mom ordered. “But I just got home from basketball,” I whined, trying to make her feel sorry for me and let me skip soccer. “Jeff, get up,” my mom commanded, with her tone of voice starting to get angry. Although she was short and thin, I was still a bit scared of her. “No,” I refused. “Should I call your father?” my mom baited, knowing I would not want to talk to my father about not going to soccer. He was big and tall, unlike my mom, so I didn’t want to get in an argument with him. “Fine, I’m coming,” I said defeatedly.
As we drove to practice, we passed by the amphitheatre, where kids were going to drama classes. Secretly, I kind of wanted to go to that class instead of playing sports. …show more content…

I began to run to everyone and when I reached them, Coach Fred was glaring at me. “Go warm up with the rest of the team, and don’t ever come this late to practice again or else you’ll be in big trouble,” Coach Fred warned very angrily. “Ok, I’m sorry,” I …show more content…

I played striker and after about 10 minutes, I received a beautiful pass from Charlie and I found myself in front of a wide open goal. And I blasted it over the crossbar. “WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING JEFF!” Coach Fred hollered. I took a quick glance at him and I immediately put my head down. “Sorry,” I peeped. He responded by glaring at me. Then, throughout the whole scrimmage, I miscontrolled easy passes and when I did control a pass, I either played a pass to the other team or dwelled on the ball for too long and gave it up. After practice, when I was leaving, my coach motioned for me to come to him, his face already turning red. I walked to him while almost shivering in fear. And then, it came. His face was a rosy red and I could already see spit gurgling out of his mouth. “THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE, WHAT I’VE SEEN HERE FROM YOU, AND YOU SHOULD BE HAPPY IF YOU EVEN FIND YOURSELF ON THE TEAM, FORGET ABOUT PLAYING!” And this went on for about 10 minutes.
When he finally let me go and I got into the car, my mom asked “What took you so long?”. “Oh nothing, coach just wanted to talk to me about the direction of my hips when I passed the ball,” I responded. “Ok, as long as it has to do with soccer, it’s fine with me,” she replied. I immediately went in the shower when I got home, knowing my dad would yell at me for bringing my stink all around the house. In the shower, I thought to myself “should I really keep playing

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