Personal Narrative: My First Time In Football
On the damp soft ground of a soccer field, I stood there in silence thinking how to approach. How to get better at being more accurate with the ball and my touch. Slowly I started to walk toward the ball, the connection between the ball and my foot broke the silence. Leading to the sound of the ball connecting with the net, putting a smile on my face. I had finally made a shot I liked. Inside I thought, “Tyler, that was one out of the fifty shots I had taken that and I only liked one.” All of a sudden it hit me I had soccer practice in one hour. Remembering back when my coach told me to rest and take things easy. We had a tournament this weekend so my coach will be mad that I'm tired and I hadn’t been relaxing. I was remembering back when he told me to take it easy and to slow down because this was a big tournament, because if we wanted to become a state team we needed to either win the tournament
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The cut on my head was only about a centimeter, but it hurt. Considering that the cut was in my head, I must have hit on something hard enough to do that. I didn’t think that the cut was bad, I was just confused as to what I hit it on. With the thought in my head, I kept pondering on what I hit it on. Jumping back up onto my feet started to walk a little then run until I reached home.
When I got home my mom asked me what had happened to the head because my head wasn’t cut before I left the house. I stopped frozen in thought, not really knowing how to answer. The thing was that I was not good about talking to my parents, I don’t really know why but it is not a strong characteristic of mine. Just when I was about to say something I hesitated and started to try to change the subject but my mom stopped me.
“Tell me what happened please.” she said with a firmer voice than the one she uses when she is upset. I started thinking while my mom stared me down, it felt like her eyes were burning through
The cut on my head was only about a centimeter, but it hurt. Considering that the cut was in my head, I must have hit on something hard enough to do that. I didn’t think that the cut was bad, I was just confused as to what I hit it on. With the thought in my head, I kept pondering on what I hit it on. Jumping back up onto my feet started to walk a little then run until I reached home.
When I got home my mom asked me what had happened to the head because my head wasn’t cut before I left the house. I stopped frozen in thought, not really knowing how to answer. The thing was that I was not good about talking to my parents, I don’t really know why but it is not a strong characteristic of mine. Just when I was about to say something I hesitated and started to try to change the subject but my mom stopped me.
“Tell me what happened please.” she said with a firmer voice than the one she uses when she is upset. I started thinking while my mom stared me down, it felt like her eyes were burning through