Personal Narrative: My High School Career

Dreams 5...4...3...2... “Hike!” the play began, the last play of my high school career. Tommy ran out into his curl route while on the other side of the field Dan had started his post. I took the fake hand off and sprinted towards the sidelines. Ben scanned the field, looking for any play he could make. Dan was covered tight and Tommy was double teamed. The double team on Tommy had left me wide open outside the hash marks and would have to be the one to make the play determining everything we all worked so hard for our last 4 years of high school. I put my hand up to signal I was open, Ben made eye contact with me, we both knew now it was up to me. The ball left his hand in a perfect spiral fashion to reach me in the back of the end zone. …show more content…
I stretched and began to create space between my butt and the bus seat. Holding on to the railing I slowly walked down the three stairs from the bus to the cement below. It was chillier then usual today and the gust of wind could have swept me off my feet before I would have known it. With the strap from my athletic bag wrapped around my chest and my headphones covering my ears I started to walk towards what was the giant wall of glass that enclosed a field that gods play on, AT&T Stadium. The Indians are expected to go to state every year and we usually do, it’s more or less a tradition. Being that my own father had gone all 4 years of high school and won a ring each time there was quite the chip on my shoulder to achieve the same thing. I had never seen a locker room so big in my life, 7 couches, flat screen T.V.s and still room for more. T. Lowen is what I read starring at what had been my own personalized locker. Teenage boys with puberty screeching voices franticly flip out about the same thing I had just saw. We had never been to a palace such as this, life was rough and grim in Fort Davis, and this had just been all a …show more content…
I was terrified, with a good right to be. It wasn’t the crowd, it wasn’t the other team, and it wasn’t even the fact that I had no self-confidence. I was scared of myself, scared there was something in my mind blocking me from doing what I know how to do the best. I feel different, I feel as if there was someone or something restraining my every will to give all I got and leave it out on the field. That very presence is what’s haunting me and will be the end of me.
It was time for the offense to take the field, not yet having my helmet on I strapped it to the perfect place and snapped it. As I jogged to the huddle I got a chance to take glimpses from around me, the ginormous space that was the stands had been practically filled with screaming fans of different colors. Both teams did not even take up a quarter of the green grass that had been God’s territory. It was as if we were gladiators forced to fight to the death by the fans that were so ruthless. This is where men come to settle differences and we were soon to find out who was the better gladiator.
“I-right 23, I-right 23,” benny repeated “You got that tony? You’re flying fast up the right

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