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Personal Narrative: My First Basketball Team

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My insides were pounding as my damp crimson jersey clung to my breast from sweat. My head hung low with sweat dripping to the ground, while I was anxiously waiting for the officials to make the call. This hard fought match was on brink of its end, and this next call could determine the victor. All at once the gym went silent as the referee made his call. “Shooting foul on #22, green.”
The crowd erupted in cheers, and our team would shoot two foul shots. But the shooter was me. I couldn’t stand the stress of deciding the game. Our team was down 26-24, and I needed to make both shots to tie. I took a few in-place dribbles to shake up my trembling fingers. Stillness overtoook the gym as I put up my shot. The basketball denied me, and rolled out of basket. I had a down feeling as I tried to make the next one. It didn’t even matter anymore as the ball missed its target and went to the other team. This was our first loss, …show more content…

I was on the court with my now soaked Hickman jersey. Though this time, I held my head high, expecting the game changing call. Another difference was I used the day within these two games to prepare my foul shots thoughtfully. “Shooting foul on #16, green.”
Again, the crowd spewed out cheers as I boldly stepped up to the free throw line. We were ahead of Mountain View 28-24, and this time I was confident I would make my free throws with the time at sixteen seconds. I went over the motions time and time again as the challengers called a timeout. “This is your second chance, make it happen,” Coach Stewart commented.
I was feeling good. The burden wasn’t as immense as it was last time. I was prepared. “Take a dribble, bend the knees, pop up as you flick your wrist and let the ball spin into the basket,” as I reviewed the motions in my mind. I thought about the months of shooting hoops with my friends, coaches, and parents, and how making these foul shots would put their service into

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