My Father
Edwards 1
Amber Edwards
English 111
2-3-13
Essay#1
My Father” Dedication, sweat, and a will to be on top is what runs through every athletes veins. Motocross isn’t like basketball or any other sports in school where it is consisted of refs at every point of perspective eye-balling every move you make. It is a moto dog fight from the second the gate drops. Every successful athlete has not become what they are by themselves. Behind the scenes there are vast amounts of support. The man that has had my back since day one would be my father. When I was just 4 my father got me my first motorcycle. It was Christmas morning, as any kid would do, as soon as my eye lids caught light I sprinted to the Christmas tree, inconsiderate of the noise I was making. As I arrived in the living room I was uttered in complete shock. It was before my eyes laid a blue pw50, the aluminum frame reflecting just as much light as the lights on the Christmas tree. As I rushed over to saddle up on my new motorcycle, ignorant how to even start it, I look up to see my father walking around he corner with a smile on his face just as big as mine. My father used to race back in his time so he always wanted me to grow into motocross like he did. So we spent countless hours in our back yard, teaching me the basics and gradually throwing more difficult tasks my way. He never pushed the issue like most parents do to their kids these days, he took his time and waited until I was ready. After having some practice on my new motorcycle I was finally confident enough to ask my father if I could race. When he said yes I couldn’t have been more excited. I had played t-ball but it just didn’t compare to the love I had for motocross. As I had been riding and been getting used to the bike, it felt like forever until I was actually able to race. Then my dad had told me that he was going to be taking me to a race this weekend and I was so excited, I got all my gear packed for the weekend even though
Amber Edwards
English 111
2-3-13
Essay#1
My Father” Dedication, sweat, and a will to be on top is what runs through every athletes veins. Motocross isn’t like basketball or any other sports in school where it is consisted of refs at every point of perspective eye-balling every move you make. It is a moto dog fight from the second the gate drops. Every successful athlete has not become what they are by themselves. Behind the scenes there are vast amounts of support. The man that has had my back since day one would be my father. When I was just 4 my father got me my first motorcycle. It was Christmas morning, as any kid would do, as soon as my eye lids caught light I sprinted to the Christmas tree, inconsiderate of the noise I was making. As I arrived in the living room I was uttered in complete shock. It was before my eyes laid a blue pw50, the aluminum frame reflecting just as much light as the lights on the Christmas tree. As I rushed over to saddle up on my new motorcycle, ignorant how to even start it, I look up to see my father walking around he corner with a smile on his face just as big as mine. My father used to race back in his time so he always wanted me to grow into motocross like he did. So we spent countless hours in our back yard, teaching me the basics and gradually throwing more difficult tasks my way. He never pushed the issue like most parents do to their kids these days, he took his time and waited until I was ready. After having some practice on my new motorcycle I was finally confident enough to ask my father if I could race. When he said yes I couldn’t have been more excited. I had played t-ball but it just didn’t compare to the love I had for motocross. As I had been riding and been getting used to the bike, it felt like forever until I was actually able to race. Then my dad had told me that he was going to be taking me to a race this weekend and I was so excited, I got all my gear packed for the weekend even though