Personal Narrative: My First American Civil War

My heart pounds beneath the thick armor like plating that covers my chest. My shoes click and clack on the pavement like a metronome. My brothers are lined up in front and beside me, all wearing the same attire but thinking different thoughts. We march down the black road that seems to stretch for miles to the stadium, reminiscent of the gladiatorial colosseum in days of old. I can just make out our opponents, their white uniforms standing out from the green field like starlight. Our chanting rings out through the night “We are!” I bark, “United!” my brothers roar in reply. This war that we are about to wage, this battle we will fight, this is the glorious game of football.”We are!” I bellow, “United!” They wail. And this night is the very last night that I will don this blue and red armor, for this is my senior night. As we reach the field, the legion that forms our team disperses, forming five rows of ten men, we proceed to warm up in the normal fashion, jumping jacks, lunges, and other assorted stretches limber us up for the fight of our lives. My pads jostle about like gnashing teeth of a machine, ready to devour my foes. Once we are finished stretching, we disperse once again into our designated groups. I go with the linemen to practice
hitting and driving. My stance is low and strong, like a charging bull. I rush forward like a bull dozer, shoving away everything in my path. After the special groups, we convene in the center of the field and pray. We ask for strength and wisdom, and that we treat our opponent with honor and pride. We then move behind the east goal post, which has a canvas sheet dropped over it, with the words “Union City Indians” inscribed on the front. As the announcer calls the seniors by name, we rush through the crowd of our team members and burst through the sheet onto the field. The screaming fans and bright lights make my blood boil in anticipation. I feel as though lighting was in my veins. The smell of the grass and paint of the field, and rumble of the team behind me root me in the moment and I know this is where I belong. Now the game can commence.
The coach huddles us together and fills us with courage and excitement with his words. Now five us us move to the middle of the field for the coin toss. The coin flies into the air, shimmering in the lights, and seems to hover forever, then falls back into the referees palm. The ball is ours! The kick off return forms on the field. The opposing team kicks the ball, and like a magnet, the ball plummets into my teammates hand. He reaches the fifty yard line with the help of the huge V that is formed by the line men. Now the battle back and forth for this small oval commences. The enemy fights hard, and we fight back, but they still manage to score many points on us. By half time they lead by
five. We meet in the locker room, a cave of stone and metal, the familiar stench of old equipment and musk hangs in the air. But we focus on the task at hand, changing our defense and offense so we can better defend against their assaults. The coach tells us how our performance fell short of his expectations in a few ares, but we were still playing hard. After some words of encouragement and more prayer, we donned our helmets and rushed back into battle. The second half of the game was definitely in our favor. We pushed back the enemy, battering them into submission. So much so that it caused the ball carrier to drop the ball, which was swiftly recovered by one of our players. Now we were in total control. We executed our plays with mechanical precision. The mud, sweat and blood was the crucible that forged us into champions. All of our training and skill culminated into the best game of football we have ever played. In the end we defeated our foes by ten points and ensured our victory. That game will forever be ingrained in the memories of myself and my comrades as the best game we have ever played. That particular game and high school football in general taught me the value of hard work and perseverance. But it also taught me about brotherhood, honor and how to be a good man. This sport was not just my passion but it was also one part of my life that molded me into the man I am today. And now that I look back, I would trade anything to be in that uniform one more time.