All good things must come to an end at sometime so that a new chapter in life can open up. For me that was my last year of high school soccer. As i look back are many bitter sweet memories and feelings on why it’s the sport I love. The atmosphere of playing on a cool and dark night, hearing the crowd cheer as the game goes on. The adrenaline rush you get when your team scores, and the sadness you feel when your team gets scored on. But finally hearing the referee blow the final whistle knowing the end has come.
The taste of grape Powerade and the Subway sandwich as a pregame meal so you have the energy to play. The smell of your sweaty jersey when the game is over shows your hard work and how bad you want to win. Being shoulder to shoulder with your teammates and having that special bond with them as if they were family is true love for the team and the game itself.
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From stepping on that field for the first time and hearing the announcer announce your name for the first time under the bright lights as you stand there seeing your family looking from the stands with joy and excitement. The sounds of your coach yelling and pushing you to work harder, not just for yourself but for the team. Seeing how all 11 players on the team bust their butts off for the team is true love for the game. Every tactical word yelled from across the other side of the field and those occasional curse words you get from the other team as they struggle against you. Before your eyes you get to see the amazing plays build up before you and being part of it is the beauty of the game, the game that I call my own. The sights and sounds leave you with feelings and emotions that are hard to explain with words but you will always remember them