Sunday, February 3, 2019

High School Football :: Personal Narrative, Autobiographical Essay

Ive never mulish if I actu every last(predicate)y miss playing footb whole. I played preposterous end and come to the foreside linebacker for one era, during my freshman year of high school. The previous winter Id lifted weights often enough for a junior high kid, then I long jumped in track during the bounce and kept in skilful condition all summer. I was no all-out beast, but for me it was decent dedication. Our coach, Mr. Noble, was horrible. I respected him at the time, and so did everyone else--he was six five and had some serious guns. Hed contrive a fair practice with the assistant coaches for ten minutes every day succession we ran the perimeter of the practice field, a workout monotonous as recopying story notes. We were in better shape than any other team in the county, but we couldnt play football worth a lick. I started in one or two secret plans toward the end of the season afterward the firstly string tight end, Mitch, fractured his wrist, and before the second-string fullback, Eric, learned the position. Like all of the only-half-decent qats, I played special teams every game. Problem was, I sucked at blocking because I had no girth, and I couldnt catch very salutary because all we ever practiced was blocking. In games, we almost always ran the ball. Our tailback, Conor, kicked butt. Hed progress to been even better if our coach didnt make him run stupid plays all the time. Wed be fourth and eight at our own 35, and Coach Noble--he do us address him as sir all the time (Yes, sir, I dont understand, sir, Sir, I have to leave practice early tomorrow, sir.)--would tell Hildebrand, the QB, to call a blast, an off-guard run right up the middle. Conor wouldve been better, too, if the linemen, such as myself, had skill as well as endurance. Theres a picture in the yearbook from that season that makes me feel like a loser every time I see it--Conors charging through the line, and Im on my feet with my knees bent and no one to block, m y guy diving for the tackle. Man, I really handled him. Maybe things will change after I graduate, but sometimes I feel like I never deserved to keep playing, that I never would have been good enough to have any real confidence in my ability. however then I go to a Friday night varsity game and the stands are on their feet as the team charges onto the field under lights blinding against a solid black sky and I think, that could be me out there jumping around, pulse racing, hollering.

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