My Love For Basketball

When I woke up that morning, I had a good feeling about the day ahead of me. I mean, it was my sixth birthday after all. All of my friends from school were coming over for a party later in the day, but more importantly, my role model was coming. Jack Yungblut, a budding lacrosse player, had always been someone that understood the way I thought and related to my interests. When everyone began arriving for the party, I became invested in the festivities. Cake, ice cream, and candy filled my head. The childish notion that birthday parties were all about the festivities clouded my thoughts, and I became so focused on how many gifts I got that I forgot to realize how instrumental one gift would become for me. Jack gave me my first lacrosse stick, and instantly I fell in love with the game. I wanted to play like him, live like him, and succeed like him. But, my love for this new game came in immediate conflict with my other love. My dad had played basketball for his entire young life and his whole high school career. I have heard countless stories of basketball from my dad, stories of triple doubles and overtime wins, and I wanted to have those experiences for myself. Naturally, his love for the game of basketball trickled down

I still love the game of basketball, but not enough to pour ten to fifteen hours a week into it, like I do with lacrosse. I absolutely adore the opportunity I get to play a sport I love every day. Our team this year has a great chance of pushing for a state title, and I could not have more hope, nervousness, and excitement built up inside of me. Every time I think about the chance I get to enter the field with Brentwood across my chest, I feel ecstatic. I feel blessed with such an incredible opportunity that I never want to take for granted. It might have taken a few years, but now I found my true passion, and I know I always have the support of my family, especially my