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Personal Narrative Analysis

774 Words4 Pages

The pearl: it’s a universal sign for beauty and grace, but the path that lead to its formation can’t quite be described as beautiful. Starting with an irritant that’s lodged into the oyster, the animal then retaliates by transforming the foreign object into the elegant pearl. An uncontrollable obstacle leads to the production of an astounding abnormality. It all began the day my childhood dreams died. It was the first weekend of summer, a time that has always been dedicated to the commencement of select soccer tryouts; however, this year would be different. The older team’s coach had watched my performance during the prior year and invited me to try out for their age group. As timorous as humanly possible, I was eager to start the tryouts, …show more content…

I became a defensive “brick wall”; no player could pass me. I felt like an artist as I advanced down the field; my flicks and kicks on the ball were like the strokes of a paintbrush, and my ending shot was the delivery of my masterpiece. The most surprising part was the immediate chemistry I felt amongst the older players and myself; a very difficult thing to breed, but it seemed present from the get-go. I felt as if I could predict their paths and deliver the perfect ball straight to their feet. Coach Drew seemed impressed by my abilities and pulled me off the field to speak those magical words, “I’d like to offer you the coveted defensive position on my roster.” Alleluia! I felt my chest rise and my grin seemed to stretch so far across my face, I swear its corners touched my eyes. The stress is over! Everything will be smooth sailing from now on.. Boy, was I …show more content…

Approaching the opposing team who had just won the ball, I was blindsided by a collision with the other team’s defender. Smack! We awkwardly fell into each other and intertwined like a human Bavarian pretzel. She shoved me to continue her pursuit down the field and I slumped to the ground, my torso falling in an unnatural conjunction with my twisted lower extremities. Snap! The sound resounded across the park, and time seemed to stand still. I looked around at my fellow teammates and they stared back at me, eyes wide with concern. I grasped my left knee, which already felt enlarged from swelling, and pain crawled down my legs until my toes curled. I dug my heels into the ground, attempting to raise myself, but the effort was futile. The knee buckled to the side of my body and I slammed back into the grass. The rest of the day was a blur of hospital rooms, MRI scans, and x-rays, all revealing my worst nightmare: I had torn the anterior cruciate ligament in my left knee and would be ineligible for any sporting activities for the next

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