I gaze into the bleachers; I see many faces of the unknown. I notice my coach behind the fence, he’s yelling to me, “leave it on the track”, I tell myself, all is well and will end well. As my mind and thoughts come back to me, I pounce toward my starting point; I notice they were rusted and discolored, like an antique bike. I feel the sweat cascade down my face and sweat beads settling in the creaks of my fingers. As I bend
“And now up at bat for the Knights, your second baseman, number 13, Miguel LaValle!” boomed the announcer. The crowd roared with excitement as Miguel jogged towards the plate with a smile that screamed confidence. He breathed in the scent of the freshly cut grass and sweat as he prepared for the biggest moment in his baseball career. The Knights were tied 3-3 with their rival school for the regional championship game. Normally, Miguel didn’t feel any pressure at all.
Chapter 1: A jogger broke the fog with his breath and his gear an Ipod and played the The Scorpions occasionally catching the morning light as he forced his way down the hill road. Tom Hobkins ran ten miles every morning, determined to get back to the high school physical shape that won him so many games as the quarterback. His wife Nelly chastised him for being so vain after twenty years, but Walker knew she griped a little less with each diminished pant size. Hobkins feet steeped on the compacted dirt, the sound increasing like a heartbeat in the cool air. Occasionally he glanced about for headlights, confident with the knowledge that the town population didn’t busy themselves till well after dawn.
It was early Sunday morning, when I arrived at my favorite paradise: The Motocross track. As I began to gear up, I was pondering the goals I would exceed. I slid my helmet over my head, buckled it, knowing that I had just committed to exceeding my expectations and accomplishing my goals. The feeling grew stronger as I swung my leg over the bike. After one firm kick, the bike roared.
As I reached the ball I could tell it was going to be pushing it to reach it. I had dove times before and sometimes made the play. What worried me was that the last time I had, I missed the ball by inches and allowed the runners to advance. I decided to leave all of this behind and knew I was going to go for it. I pushed off the ground in mid-sprint and stretched my entire body out.
This wasn’t what I looked forward to at all. My energy level of watching a football game dropped tremendously. “The modern game of American Football is tame compared to its early roots when in the early 1900's President Teddy Roosevelt threatened to ban the sport because of plays like the "Flying Wedge." The play involved a number of offensive lineman with suitcase handles sewed onto their pants forming a wedge with lineman holding on to the player in front, and a ball carrier safely positioned in the
It may be because of living in the south where the humidity always feels like it is ninety-nine percent or it may be hereditary, thanks mom and dad; either way I loathe sweating. When I recall the origins of my hatred, I see myself as an adorable four year old sitting in the middle of a tee ball outfield picking at the grass as my teammates made plays. I can feel the sun beating down on me, the grass as I pulled it from its root, and those awful polyester pants sticking to my four year old legs. This was the moment I came to hate sweating.
Whitey was up, and there were two outs. She had her game face on, and her bat was ready to kill the ball. She swung on the first pitch, and Bailey and I took off running to our next base. Whitney hit the ball right center gap, and it bounced off the top of the fence back into the field. Luckily for us, it created a struggle for the Detonations right fielder.
“I never realized how fortunate I was to be able to play soccer without having a constant pain in my knee,” said Kanan. “But when I step on that field I recognize what I have and work twice as hard as I use
Kevben Belastegui Mr.Walker Period 6 October 7, 2014 One More Lap “Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and bring your cleats on Friday” says Pinky. Immediately after Pinky says “cleats” the guys cheer in agreement as if the king just finished his grand speech before a battle for the ages. These are the days the soccer team condition. “First we are going to hit the weight room and then run the track, okay?” Pinky’s tone suggests that we even have a choice to say “nah I’m good.” “My real name is Adalraziel Santos, and the reason why everyone calls me Pinky is because my real name is too hard. Also it is a nickname my older brothers gave me” says Pinky.