I was thoughtfully named after my fearless abuelo(grandfather) who fought against the Spanish to defend South America. His name was Carlos, and let me tell you, he was a great abuelo. Although I may not be as tall as him, I sure am vigorous. I clearly remember all the joy from the unforgettable memories with my abuelo. From my heart beating quickly while playing soccer, until late at night where you can hear the crickets creaking and the waves washing over the salty sand. Yes, my taste buds have touched sand and the taste was sour and salty. It was until my father received a job in the great U.S. He was assigned to work with pipes that run around the city of Houston, Texas. My brain was already feeling homesick before my father, and I even left. I couldn’t stop shaking with nervousness after imagining people from the U.S. not wanting a tan skinned, curly haired Brazilian guy around. My hands waved goodbye to my family and friends one last time, as I walked through the huge airport to gate D7. While approaching the door, I could observe an Argentinian wearing the Argentina national soccer team jersey arguing with a white man who was holding a ball slightly more spacious than my Barcelona blue and red soccer ball. Before I could ask where he acquired …show more content…
Everyone was still wearing white shirts, and I still had my yellow shirt. It was at that moment that I realized I still had a chance to do something spectacular. I dropped the basketball and imagined it to be a soccer ball. Big Ben had more control than me over the ball, but now I have more control. I kicked the ball under Big Ben’s legs and kicked the ball up into the net. I could hear the whole crowd cheering and I couldn’t believe it. Although I didn’t win by the rules, I still felt like a champion. I notice the look in Big Ben’s eyes as if he were shocked. Big Ben walked towards me with a steaming expression as if he were to explode. Unexpectedly, Big Ben apologized with