When you look at a basketball what do you see? Most would see an orange, sphere, shaped rubber ball. There are black lines and real leather. If you look closer, you would even see the size of the ball in which you are playing with. A basketball could be just a toy for many, or even represent a release for others, but for me, it means a lot more. A basketball represents my blood, sweat, tears, passion, sacrifice, and most of all, a sense of belonging, like a family. At this moment in my life, there are only three things I devote my life to- family, friends, and basketball. Basketball has shaped my life probably more than anything else. Basketball has instilled in me a vicious will to achieve and embrace my ambitions instead of fearing them.
…show more content…
At first I did not like it, but after a while I grew on it. I later began to focus on the game. After scoring a couple of baskets, I started relaxing and having fun. After my first day when I practiced for some time, I began to realize that participating in basketball was helpful socially, mentally, and most importantly, physically. My Participation in basketball was socially uplifting. One way that it helped me socially, was to change my reaction to meeting new people. When I first started playing, I was always the shy guy in the corner. After years of playing, I have come out of my shell.
With a single basketball there were also many sacrifices. One of the most important things I have had to give up because of basketball is being with my family. Thanksgiving, for my family, is one of the most celebrated holidays. I look forward to eating everything I could possibly fit in my stomach. My grandmother cooks like a professional chef. I have a huge family and everybody just packs into one big house and celebrates together. For the past two years, I have been at basketball tournaments on Thanksgiving Day. My first thanksgiving with the team, I was in Flagstaff, Arizona. Our coach was telling us we were going to have a nice sit-down dinner at a restaurant. We did not get what we were expecting. As our bus pulled up to a place called "Granny's Closet", our jaws dropped in dismay. We