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Personal narrative essay samples
Writing personal narrative reading and writing experinces
Personal narrative introduction
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It was the last inning in our all-star game, and we were losing 10 to 8. Our team had 2 outs and we couldn’t get the third. Our pitcher was doing bad, throwing all balls, while all of us in the field were tired, ready to fall asleep at any moment. There goes another walk. They score again.
I walk out to the center of the stadium ready to nail my routine. “Hello ladies and gents, tonight I will
I kept doing this for many weeks until the tryout. I felt I had prepared myself enough for this and was very confident. After the tryout, I had a good feeling about it. I finally got the result. I was so thrilled that my hard work had paid off.
I would try out for the team and play soccer all four years. This expectation carried me to “hell week,” as dozens of students strive to attain one of the coveted spots on the soccer team. As feet pounded the ground, and bodies impacted, as the green and gold ball bounced from player to player, I felt at home. And then it all came crashing down. I had progressed well, passing the first and second cuts with seeming ease.
The Ride Today, my family and I went to Kings Island and we made it through the exhausting car ride.. We walked into the park and we were started looking for somewhere for a roller coaster to ride like the small ,medium, big, and huge I wanted to go on a medium kind roller coaster. We roamed around a little going around checking all of the places to eat, little games to play, and the huge rides they have. I said to my dad “ There's a lot of places to eat here.” he and said “I wonder why it’s always packed too.”
We all celebrate our exciting moment of victory, but months later the tryouts for the summer travel team would happen. The fun-filled first day was also nerve-wracking, but we all have each other like a family. Then, the next day of tryouts with starting sprints and stretching. Next, the contact portion - tackling with passing - came upon us faster than we thought. The first times through the drill went well, but it’s finally my turn after waiting in line.
Have you ever heard the saying, “have you ever wanted something so much it hurt”? Pushing yourself until you feel the breaking point; your legs are so sore, it feels like you can’t take another stride. You’re so out of breath from chasing the ball around and around. Also, you’re so beaten down from last night's practice, in your mind your thinking “mmm a good and nice long nap would be very appreciated now.” Countless hours and hours spent on the same old drills.
I know that just as I did, the underclassmen are struggling with all their might so they can snatch the starting spot from under me. Understanding that I must begin every practice as if my job were on the line I go out onto the field every day with a fiery passion. Although I
I tried to avoid looking at the other teams practicing as I walked to the arena, I needed to focus on my routine. When I entered the HP Field House filled with 11,000 cheerleaders and spectators, my stomach sank and nerves hit me instantly. I started running through our routine and warming up stunts and tumbling. Before we stepped on the mat, we huddled together and my coach said, “You’ve got two minutes and thirty seconds to leave your mark. That’s all you need.
I can imagine me playing at the big stadium and my team has their head’s up and there celebrating. Then I see their heads down and the other team cheering . I’m just standing still, my arms by my side. Just standing there still . I can’t feel my foot at all.
I have had tough hope once, I had to move to a different state and start to get used to the new place. Moving was hard and took a long time to move everything to our new house. My new house was hard to get used to because it was different and I wasn 't used to it which made it hard to sleep and I had to leave my friends behind and I would have to find new friends. Making new friends was hard because I would be alone until I found new friends and I would have no one to talk to so I would be very quiet. Usually I would always be talking to a friend and I am only social with friends.
I wake up early to the beeping sound of my alarm. This means the time for practice has come. We drill cheers to execute them perfectly at events. At games we shake the shinny gold and blue poms while chanting supportive school spirit cheers. The solid black track passes by my eyes as my hands make contact with the surface.
As I’m getting ready to perform on the field, the crowd is looking down at me. I forget everything as I get to my spot. I hear everyone around me counting 5..6..7..8.. and we are off. My heart pounds in my chest as my nerves speed up. I hear the Drumline playing off in the background, but I block everything out and focus on what comes next.
We all gathered up in a huddle so no one could hear our plan. The coach explained what the plan was for the game, and the drills we were going to do. We put our hands in
I was introduced to the United States and American culture at the age of three. In the initial three years of my life home came in the form of two locations: a military base in northeastern Peru and the capital, Lima. As a result of the economic instability occurring in Peru, my parents, at the ages of 28 and 29, decided to leave their families and migrate to the United States in order to raise me in a sound environment. Eighteen years have passed since that conclusive action. My parents determined to settle in a suburban cultural melting pot in south Miami called West Kendall.
