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Personal Narrative-It's Time To Play Football

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"Mom have you seen my jersey? I need the blue one for the scrimmage game today!" came the voice of my 15-year-old son. Of course I knew where it was. I knew where everything was. If I didn 't, nothing in this madhouse would get done on time. "Check the dryer, Drew. Lindsey, do you have everything you need for your soccer game?" I called out. Lindsey and Drew are twins and my oldest children. Lindsey plays soccer and Drew plays football. Mikey 's 13 and plays basketball, Becka 's 12 and does track, May and Amy are 10 year old twins. May is in softball, and Amy is in dance. Steven is seven and is obsessed with tennis, so we are pretty sure he will end up playing that. Then Randy is 6 and is obsessed with baseball. Therefore …show more content…

The game raged on in a battle, not one where everyone is shooting at each other and trying to kill each other. No, it was more civil in a way. You could hardly care about the other team. The less players they had, the better your team. Though in most cases you never intentionally hurt someone , it happened. This was a battle where the players were merciless until someone was hurt. Then with good intentions, someone would help the injured player up and the game would continue. In this war it wasn 't about territory or money or rebelliousness. It was about winning. The goal was to win. Over and over and over again. You didn 't play with brute force. No, that would only get you a red card. No you played with your mind. This was a war where you had to be quick thinking and sure. You never had time to think over your actions. And if you did, you wouldn 't for long. By half-time we were up by two, but not for long. The other team seemed to have saved their strength for the end. We didn 't. Another battle raged. Another one of silent violence. This time though, we were on the defense end. Without the defense we had, we would have been down the gutter in the first five minutes. But our defense was fresh. They practically stood the entire first half. They had more energy than a five-year-old who drank three cans of Mt. Dew, then ate

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