In sixth grade I wanted to try-out for the school volleyball team. But what I didn’t know was that all of the other girls had way more experience than I did. Nervous, I tried out for the team. By this point, I had only been playing volleyball for one year but only knew the basics. Even though I didn’t know a lot about volleyball I still wanted to make the team. I remember the feeling of stepping on the court for the first time. On the day of tryouts I was so nervous, scared, and excited all at the same time. Near the end of tryouts, the coaches give you a slip of paper that is stapled together that tells you to either come back tomorrow or to keep practicing and come back next year. But they tell you not to open it until you get to your car …show more content…
I was so determined that I always had a volleyball in my hand. “I never put it down” according to my siblings. I remember passing and setting to myself and to the wall. After coming in from playing volleyball outside I remember coming into the kitchen when my siblings were talking to my mother. I overheard them saying “She never plays with us anymore, all she cares about is volleyball, and I wish she wouldn’t play volleyball so much.” I felt like a lousy sister since I had been spending more time with my volleyball than my own family. When school came around the following year, I decided not to give up and tryout again. I had improved since the previous year. I was more jittery this time correlated to last year’s tryouts. This time I had made it through every cut. It took two weeks for Coach Mullins to select her team. But I didn’t care how long it took, all I cared about was making the team that year. On the final day of tryouts, towards the end, we received the minuscule stapled piece of paper once again. Just like the preceding year, my family and I had all gathered around in the living room and I gradually opened it to find “Congratulations, you have made the RNR volleyball team! Our first practice will be held on…” Subsequently, I had burst into tears of joy. My hard work had paid off. I was so proud of myself for accomplishing my goal of making the RNR volleyball
In fourth grade I was 9 years old. At that age I didn't even think of playing sports. I was just like a normal 9 year old. So one day my auntie told me that one of her friends daughters is playing softball for Port City Girls Softball League. Then asked me if I would be interested to play. I answer saying sure I will try it out, so my auntie went and signed me up. So the way that league works is they have a draft to pick their players for their team. Then, the first practice started, I knew nothing about softball so I was brand new at all of it. When it came to one of the next practices one of my older sisters came to watch me and noticed my coach. It was one of her friends! Then my sister told me that one of the players
Some kids that have been playing for a long time got cut. I couldn’t believe it. The next day at practice coach said now that you made the team we are going to have a tryout for who is going to start and make lines according on skill and your ability to work. Every drill I was first, we ran a thing called the stair way to haven, I was first.
We were going to win the game. That was the end of it. I knew it. We were the winners of that game. I stood up and yelled in a voice that even frightened me. I didn’t scream about moving our feet, or calling the ball, I screamed about how big of winners we were. I was done with moping. For seven minutes of my life, I had forgotten that I could do anything I set my mind to, and I had given up. The worst seven minutes of my volleyball career were those seven minutes in the third game of the final match at Brighton Volleyball Tournament. I had put my determination down to wallow in my disappointment. Disappointment needs to build determination. I had decided a long time ago that there were certain things in life that I could do better than other people. Those were my gifts. I use my gifts to my full potential.
Like a pestering fly, it kept in the back of my head; a mother’s badgering voice egging me to dig deeper, and answer a question that had nagged me for years. Did I really want to play volleyball, to put all of myself into continuing a future that would include playing volleyball? On the day of my first tournament of my 4th year playing, I found my answer.
My sophomore year of high school I played on the Junior Varsity volleyball team. We began preparing for the season by doing two-a-days the first week of August. We worked out hard the first two weeks then had our first scrimmage that next Friday. We won the scrimmage, but it was a pretty messy game. It was like we were all doing our best individually, but we were not working together as a team. The court was silent during each play and each time somebody messed up the rest of the team got mad at them.
Volleyball represents my most meaningful commitment not just because I have invested so much into it, but also because it it’s a passion of mine and has been a part of my life since elementary school. The impact my coaches and teammates have had on my life has helped make me the confident and determined individual I am today. Volleyball also takes up a lot of time and there are many sacrifices that come with the sport and playing on a team. To keep up my skills, I have had to give up a lot of my free time and parts of my summer. Balancing school with practices was also a challenge, but participating in one of my passions made it worthwhile. I have persevered through difficult times and learned new lessons along the way, so there is nothing that could make this sport less meaningful to me. (148)
It was the most competitive three days of my life, basketball tryouts. This is the first time my friends and I were trying out for a school team, we were all hyped for basketball season. I entered the tryout excited and consequently energetic. Adrenaline was pulsing through all the players bodies, there were 6 foot tall 8th graders with years of experience competing against 6th graders who have never touched a basketball before for the same spots. I was in between, I was a 6th grader that had experience along with some skill. That was also my downfall, I went in overconfident and consequently cocky. I wasn’t planning on getting cut, I walked into the tryout overwrought, nothing could stop me from being on the team.
Ever since I was young my parents said “Drew you should try new things, even if it means you fail at something.” I never really listen to them until one time in the study grade when I decided that it was ok to fail. I asked my parents “ Can we look for a club basketball team that I could try out for?” Thrilled in hearing that I wanted to try something new, they found I tryout for a team called the Cincinnati Royals. A couple of other friends agreed to try out with me, but I was still very nervous because it was my first tryout. All three of us made it through the first round of cuts and were called back for another tryout. I remember being more nervous for the second tryout than I was for the first. My palms sweated the whole night, every shot I took clanked of the rim, it wasn’t my night. My two other friends were told that they made the team, but I unfortunately got cut which I expected given how I performed. At first I saw this experience as an overwhelming failure, but I soon realized that I challenged myself, and I could learn from the criticism the coaches gave me. Taking the new stuff I learned from the tryout, I found a different club basketball team that I was fortunate enough to make, which I got to meet new people and play a sport that I loved. Although I may not have gotten the
Once again, the next year, I was on the All-Star team. This time we were all determined to stay in the tournament and win the championship. We started off lousy, though, making four errors in the first game and losing 4-0. We now had to win every game and beat the last team twice. We did defeat every team we went up against, including the team that beat us the first game, and once again ended up in the championship game.
No matter how hard I am pushed and no matter how hurt I get, I still step onto that mat like I have a major point to prove and I give it all I got. “And on deck, is the Southlake Junior Pee Wees….” the announcer said briefly the morning of my first competition. I remember feeling my heart jump out of my chest, the sweat build up in my hands. The tears choked
I was devastated when I was cut from the team. Volleyball was my life; I absolutely loved the sport. How could they do this to me? Everyone told me things would turn out fine, but how did they know? A close friend of mine wrote me a letter stating, “I know that right now it is hard to accept the paths that God has chosen for us, but I am sure whatever you decide to do with what has been thrown in your way you can surpass everyone else”.
It was at this moment that I realized that there truly is no “I” in team. A team is not characterized by the individuals within, but rather what the individuals can come together to achieve. For so long I had tried to discover where I belonged on the team. In reality, I should have realized that from the moment I stepped on the court, I was already a member of the varsity team. With a newfound sense of strength, we continued the game. Every single point we won felt like we were putting our lives on the line, while every single point we lost felt like ten-ton chains were holding us down. Even so, it was just another volleyball game. One I had experienced on multiple occasions, perhaps not to the same magnitude, but it was a relatively familiar situation. Strangely, it felt different. I felt more relaxed, more confident, and I was having more fun. At the time, I was not sure what it came from. I was too focused on finishing out the game to pay it much attention. But reflecting on it now, I realize that without a doubt, it was because I truly felt like I belonged on the team. For the first time, I knew that my team was behind me, ready to help me up whenever I fell. We continued on with the game. Despite being down two sets to one at one point, we now found ourselves nearing victory in the fifth set. Finally, we were able to overcome the opponent to win the match three sets to two and secure the second SPC championship for Greenhill Boys Volleyball in three
When I was four, I received my first Fisher Price basketball court. The court was in my house and the basket was only five feet tall. My parents placed it in the living room since it was the only room in the house without carpet. I practiced shooting every day. I would wear my father’s sneakers and imitate basketball moves that I had seen on T.V. At that age, I did not yet have any self-awareness about my potential for the sport, but my father knew it was very likely to become a passion. By the age of five, my father was taking me out to the park with a basketball and I can actually remember the day I made my first basket. After that, I went on to play in basketball leagues, as well as work out with my father in gyms every night. Those were the best of times.
Six long hours after departing Hotchkiss, we finally reached our destination. We pulled into the parking lot of the Super 8 just off Interstate 76 in Sterling, Colorado. Since I had been to this hotel on a previous trip to Sterling, I began wishing I had brought my swimsuit along. Mom and dad went inside and got the keys for room 129. I was so sick of riding in the car that I did not care what the room looked like as long as there was a bed for me to sleep on. As we entered the room, on the left there was the bathroom sink, a mirror, and a place to hang our "good" clothes. To the right, was the miniature bathroom. There was not enough space in there for a midget. Stepping out of the entranceway, there was a wooden dresser with a 27-inch television. By the large window, there was a small table. Two queen size beds sat on either side of the nightstand. The purple patterned quilts were quite shocking compared to everything else in the room.
I remember my mom telling me throughout my life that I would make a great volleyball player, but I never gave it a second thought. Growing up, I had no interest in the sport. However, in September of 2013, the beginning of my 8th grade year, she forced me to go to a travel volleyball