Personal Narrative: Soccer At Home

I 've always loved playing soccer, except for one thing- early games. I play for a travel soccer team in DC called CFC(Capitol Futbol Club). Half of our games are at home, but the other half are away, and some of them are surprisingly early, like today.

"Jude, wake up!" my dad said, loud as a ship 's horn, as he shook me out of my nice, comfy bed.

I blearily rolled over and groaned, "Few more minutes, Dad. Please?"

"Come on, get up!"

I rolled out of bed as slowly as possible, then checked the digital clock next to my bed. It was 6:00, and on a Saturday, too! After I started to recover from the light that was like a sun after sleeping, I headed over to the bathroom and turned on the sink, splashing icy cold water on my face, which started to wake me up. I ambled back into my bedroom and put on my bright red jersey and blue shorts, then headed

"Here you go," he told me, handing me a plate of toaster waffles and sausages. It might not sound like much, but the smell of those delicious sausages made my mouth water. I grabbed some syrup and a fork and dug in. After eating, I packed up my bag with a couple of water bottles and my red and black ball from DC United camp last summer. Finally, we hit the road.

"So, how far away is the game, Dad? I asked while looked out the window, watching the cars on the other side of the bridge speed past us like we were standing still.

"The usual," he replied, "about 40 minutes