The JV game has just ended and your “pep” talk with Rich is over. Although you want to cry, try and remember to put on a brave face. After the pep talk it’s time to warm up for the varsity game, and by warm up, I’m implying that you rebound for the varsity starters. One sad, little fact you should keep in mind during your time spent during the varsity game is that you are second tier: expendable and a little unnecessary. As dispiriting as it may seem, you are there solely to assist the varsity members. Still always be prepared to jump into the game just in case anyone is injured or the team is ahead.
Immediately upon finishing the warm-ups it’s time for your primary role in the whole varsity game: bench warming. Before sitting, during a
Little did I know my whole C-Squad season would come to this. School had finally let out, and we began to play summer ball for the VFW team, I was playing with older kids and the varsity coach, which both really intimidated me. Out of my element, I had lost all of the confidence I had in me, and possibly played my worst baseball ever that summer. I was so shaken and angry with myself, I truly began to contemplate the pros and cons of even playing ball anymore. After many days of thinking, I told myself, I will work harder and play harder than any other person on my team. After that season I had began something very new to me, which was lifting weights. Afterall I thought how easy can it be, it’s picking up weight and putting it back down, and i’ll be jacked in no time. Quicker than a flash reality hit me, and lifting was way more difficult than I had first thought. There was all the form and different types of lifts such as: Clean, Deadlift, Squat, Bench Press, all of the basics. My sophomore year began, and I was still far behind on my new goal, and that’s when I went to one of my best friends, John who is very stocky and strong, practically a pro
Narrative research is a qualitative methodological approach in research (Bedford & Landry, 2010. Since the early 1980s, narrative inquiry has been emerging in regards to individual life stories. Storytelling is closely related to psychoanalytic tradition. Narrative research, consist of a multiple of approaches, that are apart of social constructionism, which is guided by the philosophical assumptions of an interpretive constructivist paradigm (Patsiopoulos & Buchanan, 2011). Through this qualitative method researchers are able to explore and obtain an understanding about individuals through specific data gathered through interviews.
We often hear the expression, "The sky is the limit", but for people of a small town, you hear, "The corn is the limit." I grew up in a town with two thousand people. It is a town that takes no more than two minutes to drive through, and it is not much for the eyes. All around, you will see corn, corn, and more corn.
On Sunday March 19, 2017 there was an alleged crime at Pitt River Middle School, the former Mary Hill Secondary. On the day of the crime the school janitor was in the school to supervise the sports group. Shortly after he (Mr Bradley) discovered the plaque of Terry Fox went missing, he called in for help asap. The students attending school the next few weeks were surprised very shocked to notice the missing plaque upstairs where the lockers and staff room are located.The first time I was notified by a fellow student it looked like the backing of the plaque was ripped off aggressively, markings of a shoe print and 2 finger prints. Also 2 visible screws that look like they held up the plaque, there was also shattered glass with blood on the corners.The first day back they asked the teachers to put
About a month ago, I went to a bonfire. It was to celebrate the end of cross country season for the Boy’s Bartlett Cross Country Team. At first I was worried that I wouldn’t have anyone to talk to. This, however, was not the case. I even made friends that night. I had already known that at the bonfire some the teammates’ siblings were invited. Surprisingly, that was what I was worried most about. I was worried because at the time I didn’t think that they liked me. I thought this because they never talked to me and would look at me weirdly. When I went there, I planned to just sit there and not talk to anyone.
My freshman seminar class hitherto has been good. In this class I have been learning about various topics. These topics fall into helping us for high school and preparing us for the future. These topics was important and necessary because they helped us to avoid from not being successful. One of the topics we have recently accomplished was budgeting.
Losing a game is not that bad but losing an entire season is disastrous. It takes a toll on one’s confidence and makes one lose their interest and ability in that certain sport. And that is exactly what happened to me during my eighth grade basketball season.
Malcolm X once said, “There is no better than adversity. Every defeat; every heartbreak, every loss, contains its own seed, its own lesson on how to improve your performance next time.” I stared closely at the scoreboard, watching the seconds count down. I grasped that I would not be playing in this game or the next, or the one following that. This season would be a learning experience, an experience that would strengthen my mind and spirit. My first year on varsity soccer was truly a challenge. I struggled for the first time in my soccer career and faced many difficult obstacles, along the way. The season began, and I was immediately labeled as a “reserve” player. I was a bench warmer and a useless substitute, who had minimal playing time.
This past fall I tried out for the varsity basketball team at my high school. I had played both on the freshman team and then last year on the junior varsity team. Playing on the varsity team is all I’ve wanted to do. I’d practiced all summer and in September and October to get ready for the try-outs at the beginning of November. Unfortunately I did not make the team. It was a huge blow for me because I had worked really hard and had expected to make it. Thankfully my moms and my friends were there to remind me that there were other paths to pursue my dreams. I could have easily been bitter and decided to stop caring, but they wouldn’t let me. I was humbled by this experience and decided to turn it into a positive. I’ve since decided to join the Wilson Live club at school. It’s a group that films and commentates sports events at school. This connects to a possible major that I’m interested in when I go to college--communications or sports
I figured that I had grown about five inches since my freshman year and had gotten stronger it might be time to play basketball competitively once more. When November rolled around I was on the varsity team, but unfortunately my basketball skills was not up to par. It was tough at first, because I was a new face on the team, and the guys on the team had a great chemistry that they had built up throughout the years. After a few weeks had rolled by, I realized that I would not be in the rotation.I told myself that the team’s success is more important than my personal desired statistics.I decided to make the most of my role on the team. It was a tradition for the guys who were not in the rotation to contribute to the game in some way, guys did this by preforming stunts after significant plays and momentum shifts in the game in our favor. This was great because the crowd loved and it and more importantly my teammates fed off of the
In the midst of my wrestling match, my opponent took me down to the mat. My opponent took me down with just enough force and at the right angle to break my collarbone. I motioned to the referee a minute later after the adrenaline stopped masking my pain and the match was ended. It killed me that I had to forfeit the match because I hate giving up regardless of the obstacles ahead of me. By breaking my collarbone, he ruined my chances of winning the section tournament, increased the chances of my collarbone becoming reinjured, and decreased my chances of ever wrestling again.
It was a cold cloudy Friday morning. The day of the most nerve racking championship game had finally arrived for the two rivalry basketball teams, the Kress Lady Roos and the Hart Lady Horns. Weeks and weeks of hard, aggressive, closely won ball games one after another. Only a little bit of time after that to get ready for the most important game ever; this is the game everyone has been preparing for. A ton of exhausting conditioning and an enormous amount of shooting lead up to this moment. Every girl on the Lady Roos basketball team feels excited, pumped, and ready for the game later tonight. Constantly thinking and feeling overly enthusiastic of what the outcome of the game would be like. We all had predictions of what we wanted the game to be like but it was up to whichever team wanted it the most. With all the confidence and motivation that we had that morning we just wanted school to be over with already. It did not end quickly though. School was such a drag. We all could not wait for that three-thirty bell to ring so we could hop onto that big, yellow, warm bus. Finally, the loud, annoying bell goes off. It was now, “Game Time”! Only hours away until we would play the game of our lives. As we approached the humongous school our opponents were already there. We did not want to even look at them when we walked in. We did not want to be discouraged by what kind of players they were. As the minutes passed by it was time to get ready. We could already hear our loud and passionate fans approaching the gym. We love our dedicated and supportive Kress community. As the warm-up started we all became very anxious and jittery but knew we had to shake it off and stay focused. As we had our last talk with the coach and said our glorious ...
...ft," Coach said as we hurried out of the health room. She was right. There was only half the time left. Warm ups seemed to fly by, and before I knew it there were only 35 seconds left on the clock. Murray's team had already headed for the bench for their coach’s last second instructions. "Let's bring it in girls," yelled Coach Moore from our bench. We all ran over not wanting to miss any important last minute words of wisdom from Coach. "OK, starters check in, you know who you are. As I have said, they are about equal in ability with us. We need to go out there and play our hearts out tonight, girls. Enjoy this, it is your last home game this season," Coach said. With that the Ref. blew his whistle to signal the start of the game. I, with the rest of the starters, walked out onto the court and got ready for the tip off, knowing I was completely prepared for the game.
We were playing our traditional boys against girls war with my cousins. This is something I look forward to every year because we get to be outside and build forts. However I have learned that thinking two steps ahead of everything you do really does help.
It was the start of summer 2002, and the Mid America Youth Basketball (MAYB) national tournament was taking place in Andover, Kansas. Along with the rest of the team, I was excited to play some basketball for the first time since the middle school basketball season was over. Our team, Carlon Oil, had been together and played every summer for the last four years. We were a really good team, with an overall record of 65-4 over those four years and were hoping to continue our legacy. Lonnie Lollar, our coach for the summer, was also the coach of our high school basketball team. I had a history of groin injuries, and every summer it seemed that I would have to sit out at least a game on the bench icing my groin. But this summer was different, and I along with everyone in the gym wouldn't have expected my summer to end with a injury such as a broken leg.