As I walked into the basketball court, I could feel the excitement of a new season. Players getting ready for the game, parents talking to others, coaches talking about points of emphasis, and referees waiting for the players. We started the game and by the first half, I scored 7 points. The score at halftime was 15 - 14. The Bears were winning.
December 3 2015 was the Newton Railers seventh grade basketball team second away game. I was waiting all day for the basketball game it seemed like the day was endless. Finally 2:50 came up on the clock to let me know it was time to leave class and get ready to get on the bus. I got all my gear and got on the bus. I put my headphones on a got pumped for our game.
A day in the summer there was a football game played at Kimberly’s turf located in Kimberly Wisconsin. A 7th grade Kimberly football team was playing another great team called the Neenah Rockets they had a massive running back that had this bushy mustache and they had a pretty fast good throwing quarterback. The Neenah rockets had great talent but so did Kimberly. This game was going to be a great one, cold fans crowded the stands eating fresh popcorn and very chocolatey hot chocolate in very white cups as the game started it was 0-0 after the first 4 and a half quarters and in the last minutes something big happens when we are on defense… WORK ON Before the game started we were in warm ups doing frankenstein's, lounges, karaoke, and four’s etc.
Possession was the one thing on everyone’s mind. Time was evaporating, the other team and their fans started to get optimistic. The buzzer announced the end of the competition and the roar from our opponents deafened cries from our team and our fans. We had lost the first game for our program in fourteen years.
The referee blows his whistle and I start to lead the ball down the court. I glance over and see a split down the middle of the court, exactly what we needed. I dribble the ball the middle of the paint, right as I see the defenders start to cut me off. I make a sharp cut, turn, and pass the ball right to my shooting guard. He takes the ball in his hand and swiftly goes up and makes the three.
They came down the court and we go a steal, ran down the court and made an easy layup. By halftime we noticed something, the expressions on their face… they were shook. We had intimidated the A team and that pushed us to play even harder and make sure everyone knew we were a dangerous team to play against. We beat them and we were happier than a kid at a circus. We had become the A team.
I could no longer hear Bryce, who remained right next to me. The crowd brought life, a new feeling of excitement and anticipation, never before seen or experienced at the freshman basketball level. Our coach called us into the locker room, but I could not hear him, for the crowd was too loud and excited for me to focus on anything but them. As a result, I just stood and stared, amazed like a kid at Christmas or family seeing a skyscraper in a big city for the first
I had that butterfly feeling in my stomach as I was sitting in the front passenger’s seat of my dad’s 2007 pearl Ford F-150, I felt as if I was going into battle…… But I was ready. When I arrived to the stadium it was a very gloomy early April day, rap music was blasting, and the stadium felt like fresh cut grass. I got there I got my try-out number 705, I was excited because my favorite football number is 75, and I thought that that was very lucky.
On a cold, frosty, snow cover night in November at Welcome Home Stadium, was when my life changed. That night, two teams played for the chance to call themselves champions of 6th-grade football. All game, my team and I battled against the mighty Wilmington Hurricanes. We fought all game to win and finally we got the ball back with less than under a minute left and down by 4 points. The crowd was quieter than a church mouse as my coaches huddled us up during a timeout, and in that timeout, my coaches looked to me for answers.
The Thursday night lights beamed down on me as kickoff approached. It was the last game of the 8th grade football season and the last chance to make my mark on a personally rather ordinary season. We were playing Celina, a team known to be a powerful opponent. I was on the kickoff return team, playing on the far left side of the field and on that particular night we were set to receive the kick. The referee’s whistle pierced the warm and soundless autumn air.
It had been a long day at the softball field and everyone on my team was exhausted. We had won every game that we had played that day. We had made it to the championship and we're ready to win. I was the pitcher so I had an important duty, to pitch as best as I could.
Then we just scored and scored so at the end of the game it was 54-12 they never scored again we shook hands, and all i could hear was the crowd cheering for us. After that we got on the bus to head to chandler to get out things and head home. It was a short and loud bus drive to chandler. It was a happy day we all went home with smiles on our faces and we beat west everyone was happy I went home ate took a shower and went to
The second I was on the field I knew my team had the game won. All I could see around me was a group of men ready for war. I couldn’t be more ready for my last home opener so after I did what I do when the unexplainable happens, accept it. I ran to the 45 to the 35 to the 20, hoping to find the kick returner. 8 months waiting for this moment all the sweat, pain, 100 degree sun beaming UV rays to my face.
February sixth was the day of my last middle school game. We were playing our rivals , Ledford middle school. The first time we played them we only lost by two points. The first five starters for Ledford and our first five including myself were all standing at half court for tip off. The ref. threw the ball up and Gillian tipped it back to me.
As there were ten minutes before the game we kept on doing the drills until I heard my coach announcing the starting lineup. I heard my name being announced so I prepared myself to go to the field. I could already see the trophy as it was in a table. As I walked in the field I could smell the trimmed grass and could hear my teammates say “we got this.”
Realistic Fiction Every day, I would come to the basketball courts on 52nd street. Me and my pals, we would play a pickup with whoever wanted to play, or, at least most people. The ‘Cool Kids’, as we called them, never played with us and we never played with them. They were composed of the football jocks, homecoming kings, and many more. Their ringleader, Roger, was twice my height and he liked to torment me.