I stepped onto the field in awe. It was just like every other year I had played, except this year things started to get competitive. I was ecstatic. The night before I had called my dad to tell him all about soccer and and all of my game dates so he could attend them. He said that he probably wouldn 't be able to make it and for me not to count on it. This was pretty disheartening to say the least. I could imagine his orange ball cap patriotism nagging him to get off the phone so he could finish the 8 o 'clock game.
The thing was that my first practice didn 't go too well. This year all of the girls were pretty good at the game and their shirts hung on them rather than the snug fit of mine. I did meet one girl I liked though. Her name was Lauren. Each practice I felt more insecure than before, and everyday it was a struggle for my mom to take me. I grew to hate all physical activities and it really affected how I perceived myself.
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I had to go.” He said.
“Why didn’t you call Mom to tell us?” I huffed.
“I honestly forgot, don’t worry i’ll make it up to you next time you come over.” He said proudly, like a trip to the river would make it all go away. I hung the phone up that night discouraged. It saddened me that I would never equate to ball cap pride.
After that volleyball season I went on a 2 year sport hiatus. I thought I would never go back, that I would never have the community of a team that everyone talks about. I spent those two years deep into my school work and exercising on my own. I ended up forgiving my dad and realizing that, that game never impacted him the same way it did me. I made friends through school and I am now doing two new sports. I have started skiing, which is a great outlet, as well as crew, a huge team sport. I was awful at sports in my own eyes for a long time, but then I came into my own and tried every sport out there until I found one, or even two, that I