The world is a tough place, it is the one disease that has no cure, a supervillain with no kryptonite. The world never stops to attend to the personal needs of an individual. Tragedies often bring guilt, depression, and rejection, however, those who use a tragedy to grow and find that inner fire, reap the benefits. Growing up in a family obsessed with sports, I grew up playing baseball in the spring, soccer in the summer, football in the fall and basketball in the winter. Sports from a young age taught me the ideas of teamwork, respect, and resilience. In all sports but football, I played for either a travel team or tournament team. Entering Hillsborough’s Middle School, I came in expecting to transition right from travel sports to HMS athletics. Soccer in the fall, tryouts went well as I made it to the final cuts. The day that the roster came out was one of the most heart-wrenching days of my life. Looking at the email my stomach dropped as I didn’t see my name.
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Desperately, I looked up and down repeatedly praying that my name would be on that list. The extra searching did nothing to help and I went to bed crying. My first taste of defeat was a sour one. A taste that never again I wanted to have. The remainder of the year I only trained for soccer. I quit football to focus on soccer, it was my life for the next ten months. The eighth grade was supposed to be my year. I had grown four inches and put on thirty pounds. I was in the best physical shape of my life. Tryouts for soccer rolled around and went as smooth as baby skin. I made all the plays, ran the fastest and made the defense look silly. All signs pointed to me starting at a forward position for the season. The scrimmage on the second to last day was the most challenging day of my life. Making a run up the left side of the field I was slide tackled and the rest was a
Desperately, I looked up and down repeatedly praying that my name would be on that list. The extra searching did nothing to help and I went to bed crying. My first taste of defeat was a sour one. A taste that never again I wanted to have. The remainder of the year I only trained for soccer. I quit football to focus on soccer, it was my life for the next ten months. The eighth grade was supposed to be my year. I had grown four inches and put on thirty pounds. I was in the best physical shape of my life. Tryouts for soccer rolled around and went as smooth as baby skin. I made all the plays, ran the fastest and made the defense look silly. All signs pointed to me starting at a forward position for the season. The scrimmage on the second to last day was the most challenging day of my life. Making a run up the left side of the field I was slide tackled and the rest was a