Austin Blake Descriptive Writing
“Bro these guys are huge! We are about to get beat so bad. And look how fast they are.” Austin Blake was usually never intimidated. As the captain of the defense he was generally so stoic you would have thought there was no one he couldn’t beat. His attitude always inspired confidence and tenacity in us. He was our fearless leader. But today it seemed as if his lack of confidence was just a foreshadowing of yet another total mental and physical collapse of a team in the face of Westwood High school. Oh how I hated Westwood High School. The school that embodied scholastic excellence was also said to be the best high school football program in Central Texas. To me it seemed so unfair. How could they be good at everything? Where did we fit in?
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In this heightened sense of anticipation, I can feel more, I can smell me, I can hear more, I can even see more. I can feel the weight of my pads. The sweat on the cushions, and how they seem to cool my chest and my back. This wet feeling would usually be uncomfortable, but in this moment being uncomfortable doesn’t matter. I can smell aroma of the burgers and hot dogs being sold just outside the stadium. The smell would usually trigger some kind of hunger in my stomach, but in this moment my stomach doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is my mind and my muscles, and beating Westwood. I can hear the fans on both sides cheering. Some cheer for the undefeated Westwood and some cheer for us, the underdogs. But for some reason those cheers don’t excite me. All the cheering doesn’t matter; I find my excitement in this. My excitement is in the start of this game, my excitement is in us doing what “can’t” be done. My excitement is in beating Westwood. And finally I can see them. I can see the Westwood players. They are big, in fact much bigger than us. What do these guys eat? That doesn’t matter right now. Their size, that too means nothing. What matters is beating
In this heightened sense of anticipation, I can feel more, I can smell me, I can hear more, I can even see more. I can feel the weight of my pads. The sweat on the cushions, and how they seem to cool my chest and my back. This wet feeling would usually be uncomfortable, but in this moment being uncomfortable doesn’t matter. I can smell aroma of the burgers and hot dogs being sold just outside the stadium. The smell would usually trigger some kind of hunger in my stomach, but in this moment my stomach doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is my mind and my muscles, and beating Westwood. I can hear the fans on both sides cheering. Some cheer for the undefeated Westwood and some cheer for us, the underdogs. But for some reason those cheers don’t excite me. All the cheering doesn’t matter; I find my excitement in this. My excitement is in the start of this game, my excitement is in us doing what “can’t” be done. My excitement is in beating Westwood. And finally I can see them. I can see the Westwood players. They are big, in fact much bigger than us. What do these guys eat? That doesn’t matter right now. Their size, that too means nothing. What matters is beating