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Communication skills
Stress anxiety and arousal in sport
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More handpicked essays just for you.
Communication skills
Stress anxiety and arousal in sport
Effective communication skills
Don’t take our word for it - see why 10 million students trust us with their essay needs.
So when the first day of the season came, I went to the first practice. After the first I wanted to quit. My whole entire body was sore and I was exhausted. I stuck it out and realized that the sport isn 't bad at all. So next season I really tried hard and became Toll Gate High School 's first Division
After playing softball for eleven years, I injured my back during my junior year high school season. It was my first season officially on the varsity team, therefore my devastated me. Although I was greatly saddened by this, I still stuck with the team. I went to every practice, game, tournament, and team dinner. I kept score at every game and helped my coaches with anything they needed.
This was shown last year. With one week left in the season, one of our top player was injured at the conference. I was the next player on the roster, and, after only playing a few varsity tennis matches during the season, was asked to transition from cheerleader to champion and play at the sectional tournament. I stayed after practice every day that week to prepare with one of the assistant coaches. I ended up not only playing well, but
“Why me?” I asked myself. I had been working harder than anybody else I knew; I trained all year long, I would stay an hour longer at practice than my other teammates, and I would even have double practices a few times a week (one at school and one with my club coach). I was so discouraged, not just one meet but two meets in a row I was unable to clear any
First we did passing no one could really pass but then I thought well we could work on that. Then we set, hit, digged and last serving and I felt as if no one met my skill set. What I didn't realize at the time was how cocky I was and how much potential my team really had.
I could hear the girl’s muffled sobs from where I was standing. “Do I really hit that hard?” I thought to myself. The other team’s coaches walked the catcher back to the dugout and a new girl came in. I reassured Timmy I would be fine then walked back the box.
I waited by the dance room door for what felt like hours, waiting to see if I made the varsity cheer team. The feeling of both nervousness and excitement overcame me as the coach walked over to the door to post the numbers of the few who made it. The past nine years of my life I played softball year round when I decided to trade in my bat and helmet for a set of pom-poms and a bow. Making the switch from softball to cheer was a big change, I had neither the skill nor physical capability to do what the sport of cheer incorporated.
It is the morning before all of the Frisco Independent School District tennis teams face off to see who will be the best in singles and doubles. The weather is nice and it will quickly rise to the mid-90s. I cannot wait to get to school to see my team mates and play my final match for Wakeland High School Tennis team. I have been preparing for this match for seven years, without realizing the full affects.
I thought I was not good enough to be on the team with the people I knew were magnificent players. I learned a valuable lesson: work harder and faster than everyone else. Knowing I was working with great athletes I had to prove myself that I was worthy enough to play on the team. I was beaten and tired out from all the extra training, but it’s what I had to do. I spent nights after practice to work on things I messed up on.
After a few practices, I realized that I wasn’t as bad at volleyball as I thought I would’ve been. Although, I began to notice that my serves always hit with net. This fueled my determination to become better at my serves, and make it over the net; but soon, after countless serves, I began to feel disheartened. It felt like no matter how much force I put into my serve the ball didn’t want to go over the net,
After some time I thought about it and realized it was a lesson to keep in mind. The lesson was that sometimes you have to work at things harder than others to achieve your goals. I know now that my volleyball skills may not come as easily as it did for other people but I can still be as good as them I’ll just have to work a little harder to achieve my goal. This doesn’t only go for volleyball but anything else in life.
Next day, I pulled up at the Smith Park with my ball and the same NBA jersey. I met a 6’11 person. He offered me to be my coach and he will teach about the games, earnestness, and determination toward basketball forasmuch his son had passed away in the winter at my age and the attachment to his son. Therefore, he wanted to convey Germile 's passion with basketball by enlightening me because he lost the chance to train his son. After then, every morning even It 's dark and the snow is still falling, clumps of wet flakes drifting endlessly down, the air moist, the sidewalk mushy underfoot.
At the beginning of my high school career, I made it my goal to become a member of the varsity volleyball team, which I eventually achieved. When I made varsity, I was thrilled to be able to compete with exceptional teams within our conference;
I was comfortable with this room, considering I had tumbled here years before. We started to stunting, I was thrown in a base. My arms ached, my shoulders throbbed, my legs trembled. After an hour of learning how to throw and hold another girl in the air, it felt as if I could barely hold up my own body. Practice was miserable, I grabbed my water bottle and phone and sprinted out of the gym as fast as my tired legs could move.
All of my thoughts came as, “Maybe volleyball isn’t for me, maybe I should just go home.” Then something hits me, literally! A girl tried to pass the ball to me and I was so caught up in my thoughts that the ball hit me in the head. But when that ball hit me I decided that it wasn’t worth it to worry about how other girls were doing. I needed to worry about how I was doing