What Does Basketball Mean To Me Essay
Gorham was, and still is, a town full of talented athletes. My mother was a natural, I however, didn't get that gene, unfortunately. I have seen her basketball scrapbook with all of these old, oranged newspaper clippings showing her with her short poofy hair down as she dribbled the ball, or her being guarded by someone a foot taller than her. She was inducted to the GHS Sports Hall of Fame a few years ago. I grew up playing rec basketball. I wasn't great, but it was fun and what 7 year old is actually good at basketball. I just ran around the hot gym filled with sweaty kids, decked out in my baggy shorts and sporting my oh so fashionable sports goggles. Fast forward a few years and there I am in the 5th grade. Girls were developing skills and getting better at basketball. Travel basketball was an option because we were getting older and I, along with a
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One person was cut, and surprisingly, it wasn't me. But that didn't mean I got great news either. I was pulled aside with two other girls by the coach and she told us that we made the team, but wouldn't play every game. We took turns playing the games. I would play once every three games, still not sure how much I would play because it depended on who we were playing.
It really didn't feel good to have kids and parents come to games to see two us sitting on the end of the bench filling out papers on what we did during the game. Similar to what managers would do, except we wore jerseys.
The next year, I tried out for the 8th grade school basketball team. I made the team. And actually made the team this time. I would get to play and everything. I was ecstatic… until a week later when I ended up on crutches for injuring my growth plate in my ankle. By this point, it just seemed as if the world didn't want me to play basketball. Luckily it healed alright and I got to play after a month or
One person was cut, and surprisingly, it wasn't me. But that didn't mean I got great news either. I was pulled aside with two other girls by the coach and she told us that we made the team, but wouldn't play every game. We took turns playing the games. I would play once every three games, still not sure how much I would play because it depended on who we were playing.
It really didn't feel good to have kids and parents come to games to see two us sitting on the end of the bench filling out papers on what we did during the game. Similar to what managers would do, except we wore jerseys.
The next year, I tried out for the 8th grade school basketball team. I made the team. And actually made the team this time. I would get to play and everything. I was ecstatic… until a week later when I ended up on crutches for injuring my growth plate in my ankle. By this point, it just seemed as if the world didn't want me to play basketball. Luckily it healed alright and I got to play after a month or