However, I couldn’t play because of how direct the contact was. It was hard for me to miss a whole season, but I powered through. I went to every game and practice, even though I couldn’t do
Coach did the complete opposite of what had told me. Coach had players in the game that was messing up big time. Coach duck still wouldn’t take the players out the game for nothing. He had players in that game that was literally just giving the game away for us and he had back up players that could really get in and help the team out in a positive way. Anyways we lost our game not just lost but we [Type text] got whipped.
This race quickly went from a race against the other teams to a race against my teammates and myself. I ran faster to widen the gap between Nolan. As the second mile came around, my coach told me again that I was first but then immediately after I heard shouting coming from him Nolan to catch up and stay as a pack. I couldn’t help but notice how tired I was. I thought “Only one more mile, keep your eyes on the prize” My teammate caught up to me.
I was going to all the practices, giving it my all and once again I did not play in the game. I was dishearten and I began to question myself. If I was not playing because I’m not experienced like the rest or If it was because I’m much shorter than everyone else. I was self doubting myself If I was even good enough to be on the team.I was not going to quit and the next game came faster than I expected. Thursday night and for the third time in a row I was not mentioned in the starting line up.
The Concussion While growing up my life had always been about basketball. Because of playing this sport I ended up getting an injury that not only injured my body but also my life. My injury was not like any other injury to the body, it was to my head. I didn’t know it then but brain injuries are hard to fully heal from. I learned this when I had thought that I got over my concussion until my grades started to plunge due to the fact that I was missing school because of migraines that had me crying myself to sleep and that were so bad that I wasn’t able to function normally.
We started to tumble and my coach was spotting me on my roundoff back handspring. But, I always kept messing up, never landing on my feet, my coach yelling at me to just do it already and not make a fool out of my self. So I tried even harder, but I never did well. I was relieved when the practice got over. I went to the locker room and just slumped down sweaty and gross and tired.
Our Scott City high school baseball team hasn 't been good my whole high school career. We have lost more games in the last four years than any team I know of. My freshman year we only won one baseball game, sophomore year only won one game, junior year we won three games and this year we have won 3 games out of five that 's better than I thought we would do. I think a big part why we lose is because the coaches and the players who don 't try. My freshman and sophomore year we had coach Baker and he seemed to try to make us better we just couldn 't fix the problem.
This was one of the first years I was participating in baseball, so I really didn’t know a whole lot about the playoffs or what they were. All my parents told me was that if my team lost, we were eliminated. I really liked to be competitive, so I was as determined as a little 7 year old could get. We played the games, we pummeled the teams. That was all we did in the playoffs.
As a freshman, and a coach 's son, I came onto the football team and took a starting spot from a junior, who had started in that spot all of last season. There were quite a few players that weren 't happy with the decision, but I felt as if I 'd earned the spot. I knew that the only way i would gain their approval was to stand out. All season I listened to, "He only starts because he is the coaches son" but I tried to block it all out. The junior, who 's spot I took, took all his anger out on me in practice, taking every cheap shot possible while people weren 't paying attention.
I let myself go, I was stressed and worried about my son. I 've gained a lot more weight on top of what I gained durin my pregnancy. it has caused low self esteem, depression, insecurities, fatigue etc.. i 've tried going to the gym, Doing workout videos and even eating right. but I wasn 't able to stick to it. I was missing something, I was missing accountability, support, motivation, encouragement, and just someone to believe in me when I didn 't believe in myself.
Once I began running in high school, is when I noticed track is not easy and I would have to really dedicate my time and strength to the sport. I remember my coach always reiterating "track is all mental, it 's not about how fast you are." Track is my outlet. Coming from a low income family and not living in the best neighborhoods, I should have been a victim of the harsh realities exposed to me but I did not because of track. Between school, practice, and clubs I had no time to be involved with the horrific street life of the South Central.
He won the second game. This put him up 2-1, so we both needed two more games to win. The next rack he broke and made nothing then I ran the rack out. Then I broke and missed after making two balls. He ran out to one ball and then scratched, giving me ball in hand.
The meets leading up to senior state hadn’t been going very well for me and I found myself stuck with the same times I had been going all season. I had two and a half hours of practice every day and six days a week and I still wasn’t getting the results I wanted. I couldn’t understand what I was doing wrong and it often left me feeling defeated and distressed. Every single time I would come home from a bad meet my dad would say to me how I can’t expect to get faster in a race if I do the same thing every time to prepare me for one. He would often tell me that if what I was doing wasn’t working then I needed to try something else in order to get something else as a result.
I went into both competitions excited and motivated only to walk away frustrated and disappointed. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong while I was vaulting went wrong. “Why me?” I asked myself. I had been working harder than anybody else I knew; I trained all year long, I would stay an hour longer at practice than my other teammates, and I would even have double practices a few times a week (one at school and one with my club coach). I was so discouraged, not just one meet but two meets in a row I was unable to clear any