Personal Narrative: High School Soccer Player

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Thirty seconds left in the game. The score is all knotted up at one. I find myself playing in the second round of the state playoffs as a starting midfielder for the Nation Ford High School soccer program. It was the fifth of May when my Falcons came in as an underdog against the Dorman High School Cavaliers. I was only a sophomore at the time, which made me the youngest player on the team. This was my first season playing varsity soccer, and I am was so blessed to be a part of the team. Anyway, let’s get back to the game. It was a back-and-forth battle between the two high schools. Even with the pouring rain and roaring thunder, the game was heating up after every second ticked away. Hard tackles were being made. The referees were …show more content…

However, I have been playing soccer since I was five years old. I love playing the game. Not only is it something that I am good at, but it also fills me with joy. Every time I step onto the pitch it makes me come alive, and I become a whole new person. Tryouts for the team was the only thing that stood in my way from accomplishing my lifelong goal of becoming a varsity soccer player. I was aware that the speed of play during a JV game is elementary compared to the varsity games. For that reason, I was nervous out of my mind during tryouts because I thought for sure I would be cut. There were already ten seniors on the roster, so I knew the spots were limited. Tryouts lasted about a week, and after every night our coach would have to ruin another handful of kids’ dreams. It was a Friday night and more importantly the final night of tryouts. I was still hanging around, so I was blessed to even make it through the first four nights. I learned from a senior that there was only one roster position left with four kids still on the bubble. I knew I was one of them. Knowing that I had to play my tail off that night, I gave it everything I had. By barking orders, slide tackling for every ball, making crisp passes, I was able to play to the best of my ability. When coach blew the final whistle, I was so nervous that I could not tell if I had urinated myself, or if I was just extremely sweaty. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for the decision on who got the eighteenth slot. If my name was not called, it meant that my performance was not enough, and I would have to wait an entire year before getting another shot at playing varsity soccer. Once I did not hear my name after sixteen players, I thought I was going to puke from anticipation. Coach continues through the list and says, “Geoff Liskoff, and finally Tyler Jarrett.” I

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