Friday, March 19, 2010
The Pitch
I pulled the laces on my Predators as tightly as I could. I put my guards in place and pulled my socks up. I stepped on the pitch and I knew I was ready. Everyone who was watching told me from the point of when the whistle blew to the very end, I was the dominant force on the field.
I woke up and realized it was all just a dream. It kept happening and it was really starting to make me mad. The one place I really wanted to be lately was on that field, but it was still closed for winter. It was closed for the winter because of the rain. When the grass is wet the cleats tear up the grass and ruin the fields. Also, my dad wanted me out there playing hard, so he wouldn’t let me play. You may not understand what its like to miss something really bad for a while, but once you get back out there and do it, you work hard.
I tried to slip back into my old, worn out cleats, but I realized that my feet were way to big. I needed new cleats very badly, but I was waiting for the very last second. I either wanted the best ones on the market at the time, or I would stick with the classic Predator, my favorite cleats.
I didn’t see anything new that I liked, so I figured it would be the right decision to either find a newer pair of the predators or stick with the oldest ones I could find.
“Mark,” my mom said, “do you like these ones?”
“No! I’ve told you before that I don’t wear Nike because they destroy your feet!
“Ok, ok. By the way, if you ever yell at me like that again, you will be grounded for two weeks and you won’t get to play soccer during that time either.”
“Ok fine. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”
A few days before the start of the season, my dad grabbed my new boots out of my closet and tossed them at me and said, “Lets go.”
“Where are we going?”
“Where do you think we’re going,” he said sarcastically.
A few minutes later he shut off the engine and hopped out of the car. He slowly walked to the back of the car and checked the air pressure in the balls. Apparently they were all good because he bagged them up, and easily hauled all twenty balls onto the freshly painted field. It was early in the morning so no one else was using the field yet.
He pointed to a spot and said, “Go over there and prepare yourself.”
The first thing that went through my mind was uh-oh. He dumped the balls out and selected one. He pushed it out in front of him and struck it on the ground at me with great pace. I put my foot out to stop it, but all that did was make it bounce off right back to him.
“You have to give a little with your foot so that you can keep control of it,” he said.
He hit balls at me for probably a good ten minutes before I finally had my touch back.
“Now,” he said, “I’m going to throw it at you and you have to control it.”
The first ball he threw struck my thigh harder than I was expecting, so it bounced away. The second one came at my chest and I struggled to get it to the ground.
“Come on! This isn’t hard. With your thigh, like before, you have to give. With your chest, you have to push it down into the ground. With your head, just touch it to the ground and get it back to me.”
“Ok,” I said. “I’ll try.”
“No! Don’t try. Just do.”
He threw some more at me and it took me a couple tries to get it right. After that we moved onto shooting. He played me the ball. I took a touch to the right and finished. Once we moved onto left foot I knew it was going to be the most stressful part of the training. He was going to start correcting my technique, and I already knew I was going to get frustrated.
“Swing your leg through with speed. You will get more power behind your shot.”
“I know Dad”
“If you know, then do it.”
I yelled, “You know what Dad, I’m done. I absolutely hate coming out and training with you one-on-one. Take me home.”
He boldly said, “Ok. Don’t expect me to help you at all then.”
My mouth dropped open as he walked away. As soon as those final words came of his mouth, I knew that I had made one of the biggest mistakes of my life. I tried to apologize, but he just kept on walking.
I was slipping on my sweats and a t-shirt when my mom came in.
She said, “You know what you said really hurt your father right?”
I undauntedly said, “No I don’t. And at this point, I don’t really care because he is making something fairly simple, extremely complicated.” At first, I wasn’t completely sure about what I said, but the shocked look on my mothers face said it all. The shocked look quickly turned to anger, and I knew I had just dug my own grave.
“You know how I said you would be grounded for two weeks, including soccer? That dream of yours, just came true,” she shouted obnoxiously.
After she left I closed the door quietly because I didn’t want to dig my grave any deeper. I moved slowly, as if underwater, towards my bed. The one thing that had been on my mind, had just been thrown away in under a minute. I couldn’t believe what had happened.
For the next few days, I stayed holed up in my room because there wasn’t much else that I could do. I almost always had a blank stare on my face, and the only time I left my bedroom was to eat, get a drink and use the bathroom. At one point, all I did was sleep. However, on the last day of my grounding, I was so excited that I went downstairs and had my first conversation outside of my head in almost two weeks.
“How are you holding up Mark,” my sister asked.
“Much better now that its over, but throughout the weeks I had a little trouble.”
“I could tell. I didn’t see you at all except for at dinner and before you went into the bathroom.”
“Yeah, I know. Just asking, how would you feel if your dreams had just been shoved away for longer than you were wanting to wait?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never thought about it, and I hope I never go through the depression I saw in you.”
“I hope you don’t either,” I said kindly. And with that, she walked away with a big smile on her face. I saw my mom out of the corner of my eye. I asked, ”How much of that did you hear?”
“All of it. It was very nice.”
“Don’t tell anyone because I don’t want them knowing I like my sister too much,” I said sarcastically.
She laughed and said, “Be nice.”
Out of nowhere, my stomach started rumbling. I asked, “What are you making for lunch?”
“So, you are finally joining us for lunch after almost two weeks, eh?”
“I know, I know. I should have at least said something, but I was too deep inside my own head to think of anyone else but myself.”
“I know the feeling,” she said sadly
“Why? If it’s about a boy, I really don’t want to hear the story, no offense.”
“That’s ok, but it’s not about a boy. When I was about your age, I was really into track. For the first time, I was going to be part of a meet and I was incredibly excited. Before we started, for warm-ups, we would run the track a few times. Ahead of me, one of the other girls tripped and fell. We ran in a line, so there was pretty much a domino effect. I was the second to last in the line, so you figure I wouldn’t have gotten hurt. After I fell, the last girl tried to jump out of the way, but she landed on my leg. I heard a loud pop and felt the most excruciating pain I had ever felt. The worst part was that I knew that there was no chance that I would be able to participate in the meet.”
I was completely blown away by the story my mom had told me. I could have never imagined something so tragic had happened to her. I hoped that nothing like that was ever going to happen to me. I said, “Wow. That’s horrible.”
“Yeah, but I got over it.”
“Well if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here now would you.” Saying this, I was trying to cheer her up. I could see that it didn’t help much, but some is almost always better than none.
“Thanks Mark. I know what you’re trying to do and I appreciate. It’s always hard for me talk about, but I always get over it.”
“Thanks mom. I’ll keep in mind that this runs in the family.” My mom walked away laughing and I knew that I had helped quite a bit.
The next day was the first game and the coach was starting me even though I had missed the first few weeks of practice. Warm-ups went particularly well for missing practices, but I was still nervous.
Coach Andy said, “Guys, it’s the first game of the season and it’s also a home game. We have to do this to show people we are strong and we can win. Lets go!”
Within the first five minutes I had chipped the keeper and scored. The other team wasn’t very happy about, but I sure was. Next thing I know, I’m on a breakaway and it’s just the keeper and I. I wind up to take the shot, and I see somebody out of the corner of my eye and I know he’s going to come in sliding. I see metal gleaming on his studs and I know I am in deep trouble. I want to scream out to the ref that he has metal studs but there isn’t enough time. He comes into the side of my knee and I feel it bend inside. I feel the crack of my bone as the tension becomes too much, and I cant help thinking of my mom. I get ready to scream, but the pain is too much to bear and I pass out. I wake up in a hospital room. The only differences are there is a cast on my leg and my mom is crying. I know that my soccer career is probably over and that my mom is going to blame this on herself because she told me about it. I wish I could take back every second of it, but I know its already too late.
I pulled the laces on my Predators as tightly as I could. I put my guards in place and pulled my socks up. I stepped on the pitch and I knew I was ready. Everyone who was watching told me from the point of when the whistle blew to the very end, I was the dominant force on the field.
I woke up and realized it was all just a dream. It kept happening and it was really starting to make me mad. The one place I really wanted to be lately was on that field, but it was still closed for winter. It was closed for the winter because of the rain. When the grass is wet the cleats tear up the grass and ruin the fields. Also, my dad wanted me out there playing hard, so he wouldn’t let me play. You may not understand what its like to miss something really bad for a while, but once you get back out there and do it, you work hard.
I tried to slip back into my old, worn out cleats, but I realized that my feet were way to big. I needed new cleats very badly, but I was waiting for the very last second. I either wanted the best ones on the market at the time, or I would stick with the classic Predator, my favorite cleats.
I didn’t see anything new that I liked, so I figured it would be the right decision to either find a newer pair of the predators or stick with the oldest ones I could find.
“Mark,” my mom said, “do you like these ones?”
“No! I’ve told you before that I don’t wear Nike because they destroy your feet!
“Ok, ok. By the way, if you ever yell at me like that again, you will be grounded for two weeks and you won’t get to play soccer during that time either.”
“Ok fine. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”
A few days before the start of the season, my dad grabbed my new boots out of my closet and tossed them at me and said, “Lets go.”
“Where are we going?”
“Where do you think we’re going,” he said sarcastically.
A few minutes later he shut off the engine and hopped out of the car. He slowly walked to the back of the car and checked the air pressure in the balls. Apparently they were all good because he bagged them up, and easily hauled all twenty balls onto the freshly painted field. It was early in the morning so no one else was using the field yet.
He pointed to a spot and said, “Go over there and prepare yourself.”
The first thing that went through my mind was uh-oh. He dumped the balls out and selected one. He pushed it out in front of him and struck it on the ground at me with great pace. I put my foot out to stop it, but all that did was make it bounce off right back to him.
“You have to give a little with your foot so that you can keep control of it,” he said.
He hit balls at me for probably a good ten minutes before I finally had my touch back.
“Now,” he said, “I’m going to throw it at you and you have to control it.”
The first ball he threw struck my thigh harder than I was expecting, so it bounced away. The second one came at my chest and I struggled to get it to the ground.
“Come on! This isn’t hard. With your thigh, like before, you have to give. With your chest, you have to push it down into the ground. With your head, just touch it to the ground and get it back to me.”
“Ok,” I said. “I’ll try.”
“No! Don’t try. Just do.”
He threw some more at me and it took me a couple tries to get it right. After that we moved onto shooting. He played me the ball. I took a touch to the right and finished. Once we moved onto left foot I knew it was going to be the most stressful part of the training. He was going to start correcting my technique, and I already knew I was going to get frustrated.
“Swing your leg through with speed. You will get more power behind your shot.”
“I know Dad”
“If you know, then do it.”
I yelled, “You know what Dad, I’m done. I absolutely hate coming out and training with you one-on-one. Take me home.”
He boldly said, “Ok. Don’t expect me to help you at all then.”
My mouth dropped open as he walked away. As soon as those final words came of his mouth, I knew that I had made one of the biggest mistakes of my life. I tried to apologize, but he just kept on walking.
I was slipping on my sweats and a t-shirt when my mom came in.
She said, “You know what you said really hurt your father right?”
I undauntedly said, “No I don’t. And at this point, I don’t really care because he is making something fairly simple, extremely complicated.” At first, I wasn’t completely sure about what I said, but the shocked look on my mothers face said it all. The shocked look quickly turned to anger, and I knew I had just dug my own grave.
“You know how I said you would be grounded for two weeks, including soccer? That dream of yours, just came true,” she shouted obnoxiously.
After she left I closed the door quietly because I didn’t want to dig my grave any deeper. I moved slowly, as if underwater, towards my bed. The one thing that had been on my mind, had just been thrown away in under a minute. I couldn’t believe what had happened.
For the next few days, I stayed holed up in my room because there wasn’t much else that I could do. I almost always had a blank stare on my face, and the only time I left my bedroom was to eat, get a drink and use the bathroom. At one point, all I did was sleep. However, on the last day of my grounding, I was so excited that I went downstairs and had my first conversation outside of my head in almost two weeks.
“How are you holding up Mark,” my sister asked.
“Much better now that its over, but throughout the weeks I had a little trouble.”
“I could tell. I didn’t see you at all except for at dinner and before you went into the bathroom.”
“Yeah, I know. Just asking, how would you feel if your dreams had just been shoved away for longer than you were wanting to wait?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never thought about it, and I hope I never go through the depression I saw in you.”
“I hope you don’t either,” I said kindly. And with that, she walked away with a big smile on her face. I saw my mom out of the corner of my eye. I asked, ”How much of that did you hear?”
“All of it. It was very nice.”
“Don’t tell anyone because I don’t want them knowing I like my sister too much,” I said sarcastically.
She laughed and said, “Be nice.”
Out of nowhere, my stomach started rumbling. I asked, “What are you making for lunch?”
“So, you are finally joining us for lunch after almost two weeks, eh?”
“I know, I know. I should have at least said something, but I was too deep inside my own head to think of anyone else but myself.”
“I know the feeling,” she said sadly
“Why? If it’s about a boy, I really don’t want to hear the story, no offense.”
“That’s ok, but it’s not about a boy. When I was about your age, I was really into track. For the first time, I was going to be part of a meet and I was incredibly excited. Before we started, for warm-ups, we would run the track a few times. Ahead of me, one of the other girls tripped and fell. We ran in a line, so there was pretty much a domino effect. I was the second to last in the line, so you figure I wouldn’t have gotten hurt. After I fell, the last girl tried to jump out of the way, but she landed on my leg. I heard a loud pop and felt the most excruciating pain I had ever felt. The worst part was that I knew that there was no chance that I would be able to participate in the meet.”
I was completely blown away by the story my mom had told me. I could have never imagined something so tragic had happened to her. I hoped that nothing like that was ever going to happen to me. I said, “Wow. That’s horrible.”
“Yeah, but I got over it.”
“Well if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here now would you.” Saying this, I was trying to cheer her up. I could see that it didn’t help much, but some is almost always better than none.
“Thanks Mark. I know what you’re trying to do and I appreciate. It’s always hard for me talk about, but I always get over it.”
“Thanks mom. I’ll keep in mind that this runs in the family.” My mom walked away laughing and I knew that I had helped quite a bit.
The next day was the first game and the coach was starting me even though I had missed the first few weeks of practice. Warm-ups went particularly well for missing practices, but I was still nervous.
Coach Andy said, “Guys, it’s the first game of the season and it’s also a home game. We have to do this to show people we are strong and we can win. Lets go!”
Within the first five minutes I had chipped the keeper and scored. The other team wasn’t very happy about, but I sure was. Next thing I know, I’m on a breakaway and it’s just the keeper and I. I wind up to take the shot, and I see somebody out of the corner of my eye and I know he’s going to come in sliding. I see metal gleaming on his studs and I know I am in deep trouble. I want to scream out to the ref that he has metal studs but there isn’t enough time. He comes into the side of my knee and I feel it bend inside. I feel the crack of my bone as the tension becomes too much, and I cant help thinking of my mom. I get ready to scream, but the pain is too much to bear and I pass out. I wake up in a hospital room. The only differences are there is a cast on my leg and my mom is crying. I know that my soccer career is probably over and that my mom is going to blame this on herself because she told me about it. I wish I could take back every second of it, but I know its already too late.
Friday, January 29, 2010
If a teacher is choosing to have their class read a book that many people are unhappy with, they should not be dismissed. They should not be dismissed because it is just a book and I am pretty sure most people do not take what they hear in a book and apply it unless it is a non-fiction book. Also, it's just a book.
I don't take most things that are in a book that seriously unless they are in a non-fiction book. Even then many non-fiction books that are not completely factual are based off of opinion. I can understand the cursing part and the sexual content part of censoring books , but if you are reading a book promoting a type of government should be okay. It's a form of government and if you do your research, socialism did not go well for France. Anyone with half a brain could figure out that democracy is a much better way to go.
Like i said before, it is just a book. It's not that life shattering if they hear a few curse words because they are going to here them eventually. Given, i do not think a five year old should be hearing a bunch of curse words. The sexual content, in my opinion should be held off for a while, but once you get in high school I think you will not be traumatized and your life will go on. It's a book, get over it.
I don't take most things that are in a book that seriously unless they are in a non-fiction book. Even then many non-fiction books that are not completely factual are based off of opinion. I can understand the cursing part and the sexual content part of censoring books , but if you are reading a book promoting a type of government should be okay. It's a form of government and if you do your research, socialism did not go well for France. Anyone with half a brain could figure out that democracy is a much better way to go.
Like i said before, it is just a book. It's not that life shattering if they hear a few curse words because they are going to here them eventually. Given, i do not think a five year old should be hearing a bunch of curse words. The sexual content, in my opinion should be held off for a while, but once you get in high school I think you will not be traumatized and your life will go on. It's a book, get over it.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Monday, December 14, 2009
Ebenezer Scrooge, Stingy or Great Guy?
Did Scrooge do the right things in life by only thinking about himself or did he make the complete wrong decisions by not helping people? I believe that a person should have the ability to look out for themselves first depending on the situation. If you are in a life threatening situation you should take care of yourself first and others second, if you have time. If you have plenty of money and you decide to be stingy and keep it for yourself, you probably should do something different and help others. If you are in a life threatening situation and you have time to help others you should probably take advantage of this time and help them get out of this same predicament. If I was given the time to help people escape from something with their life, I would do so in a heartbeat.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
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