Showing grit is a common thing for all people in sports, but one that has really stuck to me was middle school football to now. When seventh grade football started, Coach was looking at kids for certain positions and he said my name first. I instantly perked up ready to get any position on the team, but when he said I was playing second team center I was crushed. I never played on the line before. I was tall and skinny, not big and bulky.
It was six o 'clock at the Friendswood junior high mustang field I was playing strong safety and I had to cover the extra receiver they brought out by the snap I was already beating my man and the next thing I know the ball was sailing my way straight to me. I am 13 years old and I am on the Friendswood junior high C-football team I am a second string slot receiver and starting strong safety
The highly regarded claim of drill team members and directors is that students learn skills that the classroom cannot teach: “self-assurance, grooming, good manners, self-discipline, physical fitness, poise… share with others, to set goal… reinforced the values that parents emphasized…” (Pennington, Joyce E). Drill team members are regarded as athletes, and are held to the same standards. This means daily practices, weekly workouts, and excused dismissal from classes. Moreover, the same amount of commitment and dedication is expected of members.
On a cold, frosty, snow cover night in November at Welcome Home Stadium, was when my life changed. That night, two teams played for the chance to call themselves champions of 6th-grade football. All game, my team and I battled against the mighty Wilmington Hurricanes. We fought all game to win and finally we got the ball back with less than under a minute left and down by 4 points. The crowd was quieter than a church mouse as my coaches huddled us up during a timeout, and in that timeout, my coaches looked to me for answers.
It was awesome when my sister’s cheer team Synergy got first place at her cheer competition and won a trip to Orlando, Florida. Then we went to The Mall of America and went to the amusement park and road rides. Then later we went to dinner with all the girls on the cheer team at Dicks Last Resort, i would recommend going here if you're ever at The Mall of America. For the reasons above this trip to The Mall of America was totally amazing.
When I was 7 years old I went to my first high school game with my mom, the teams that played were Roosevelt and Flower. I will never forget that day Sept 8th at 8PM friday night lights. My older cousin Brett Pierce was the starting Cornerback for flowers, I admired him because he the starting Corner and he was ranked #23 in the Nation for his position. My cousin ended the game with 18 tackles, 4 interceptions, and 3 forced fumbles that was one of the greatest days of my life. After the game was over I asked my mom could she sign me up to play football, she told me I wasn’t big enough.
When we first moved here my mom went to one of the high school football games and was amazed by the spirit of the fans. She then found out that it was because the football team had won the last two games and they are supposed to be a losing team. Also at this time my brothers and I had been telling my mom for years she needed to quit smoking which she had been doing since she was 13. So, we designed a contract. The contract stated that if the Wabash High School football team had a winning season meaning they had to win 5 games that my mother had to quit smoking.
West High School’s softball team has opened a new chapter in my life. If I could go back to my freshman year I would have played for West. All the rumors people have heard about Coach Saladino are not true, he is honestly such an inspiring person. Playing softball for West has given me friendships I will never forget, the ability to play with the most robust players, and the new skills I have learned from such an amazing coach. Playing for West High School’s softball team was one of the best decision I have ever made.
The Thursday night lights beamed down on me as kickoff approached. It was the last game of the 8th grade football season and the last chance to make my mark on a personally rather ordinary season. We were playing Celina, a team known to be a powerful opponent. I was on the kickoff return team, playing on the far left side of the field and on that particular night we were set to receive the kick. The referee’s whistle pierced the warm and soundless autumn air.
“Unfortunately, Jack, there will not be many opportunities for you this year.” Seconds after being told I had made the varsity baseball team, I did not expect my coach to so bluntly tell me I would be spending more time watching the game than playing it. Our state ranked team had a pitching staff full of Division 1 commitments and future MLB draft picks, and I was being told I did not measure up. The bench became my best friend.
It was the moment I had been practicing for. I was finally going to try out for my middle school cheer team and hopefully make it. I was so excited I could barely focus on my classes that day. I had run through all of the steps at least 50 times that day. I had always wanted to do cheerleading and this was my moment to do it.
I have been cheering for five years now. I can not remember the times when I was not a cheerleader, it is hard to imagine myself doing anything other than cheer or simply not cheering at all. I fell in love with the sport and within time, my passion towards it grew even more. Cheerleading consumed my life, it was my only focus. I was fortunate enough to grow up with coaches that pushed me to reach limits I did not even know I had, as well as teammates whom I shared the same passion towards the sport with.
Nothing hurts more than being excluded. I learned this the hard way my sophomore year. This is a story about my high school lacrosse team. Most of my friends are on the team so we’ve become very close after playing together since the seventh grade. We play lacrosse in the backyard almost everytime we’re together.
In the summer of 2012, my sister and I joined the Saltillo High dance team. For Elizabeth and I, our first pair of shoes were ballet slippers, but our fellow team members had little to no knowledge of dance. Elizabeth and I felt a strong responsibility to use our talents to transform fourteen softball players into dancers. We learned very quickly the cost of being a leader- sacrifice. Elizabeth and I found ourselves searching for ways to improve the team, choreographing routines, and privately instructing stragglers.
This summer, I had to turn my back on something that has been close with me since I was eight. My dance studio closed, I had been going there since I was eight. To be honest, when I first started, I was terrible. But weren’t we all when we first started the sport that we loved? Six years later, I am still dancing and even more than I had when I first started.
