Personal Narrative Essay: The Game Of American Football

Adrenaline pulsing through my body and anxiety filling up in my stomach, I quickly throw on my football gear and head out to the practice field. It’s a nice hot day in Ocala, Florida, with the sun beating down on our necks, we stand side by side in line waiting to be picked to play second, third, or fourth string in a play. Waiting in anticipation, each of us grinding our teeth, watching first string pure athletes colliding against each other like gladiators to have possession of a ball made at one-time of “pig’s skin”. To some people, the game of American football makes no sense, whether it’s the idea of trying to protect a ball or running and passing it to make a goal for your team. People like this, see the concept of football and understand why millions of people love it; but to them the sport is pointless and causes way too many casualties. Coming from the most us who love the sport, it’s not the worry of getting hurt that you mainly

This plan seemed solid, with no margin for error until sadly it all ended. The end of my football dreams happened when I was fourteen playing football in the backyard with my friend Daniel. Me and Daniel used to always make up dumb football plays for back yard football. One day, before I was going to play a football game, we were making up plays and collided into one another. From his shoulder going into my collar bone, it broke, and I had no idea. So, I blew off the injury like it was nothing and slept with it broke for a couple of weeks. After having enough of the pain, I decided to go to the hospital about it. The result of the collision was a broken collar bone, that according to the doctor could go into my lung and puncture it if I ever played football again. Little did I know that God had a greater plan for me than being a football playing sergeant body