It was a rainy spring morning and I was playing in a soccer tournament with my brother, the rest of our team, and my dad as the coach. TWEET, TWEET, TWEET! We were all ecstatic when the referee blew the whistle to end the most important game of the season because we won the game! We all ran off the field and my dad told us to calm down and shake hands with the other team. “It’s good sportsmanship”, my dad said. After, we ran to the stand that had our trophies on it. I walked up to my dad with pride and excitement as he handed me the first trophy I ever owned. I began to think about how he has always been there supporting me, helping me grow on and off the field, and telling me that not everything goes the way people want it to in life and they have to accept that.
I was 5 years old, and it was my first year playing soccer or any sport at all. I grew up thinking that everything would go my way, but, when my parents introduced me to
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The first game is at 9:00 which was really early in the morning for me so we went to bed early on Friday to get some rest. I was restless in my bed and could only think about the tournament ahead of me. I was up for a while just thinking about what would happen over the weekend. We got up early the next day, ate our breakfast, and went to the fields. The breakfast before the game was was plain because as I ate I did not really tastes the food, I just put it in my mouth and chewed it. I was getting nervous for the games coming up that I didn’t say one word at all when we were eating. When we got to the fields, I was anxious to go out there and play. My dad started talking to the team about everything he taught us over the season and how proud he was of us. He told our team that he didn’t care if we won this or not, all that matters is if we have fun. He then told us to go out there and do our best right before we ran out onto the field to face our