As the lights shine down on the field and my team’s song is playing in the background “I’m from Louisiana” remix Louisiana Ca$h. I look around the field the smell of sweat and looks of anticipation on my teammates faces. The adrenaline rushes through my blood, they are shouting in the stands. As I stand and honor my country, I stare at the flag place my hand over my heart. Suddenly, the field starts to quiet down. I look over at the opposition team. “Yeah, when you go up against me be prepared to feel the ground.” It’s Friday Night baby!
Growing up, I took special interests in sports at an early age. Fortunately, I was able to play multiple sports in a single mother raised household. Football (the kind that you play with helmets) had always interested me, but shoulder pads, cleats, jerseys, and the like did not come cheap, and my mother was barely able to feed me and all my siblings, let alone guide me into some activity that in all likelihood would just leave me with broken bones. Mom however, managed to buy me the ones I wanted.
Next thing I knew, I was spending my Saturday mornings pounding getting dressed and ready for little league football. Much to my surprise, it turned out that I was not just good at the sport; I was great! I ran faster, throw harder than my opponents. I heard the cheering from the parents on the sidelines for the first time. I was five years old and they were standing up clapping and cheering for me!
Most importantly, however, I discovered that I had finally found something I was deeply passionate about. No longer was I some poor nobody who shuffled hopelessly from one class to another; now, I had a special ability, a true talent. For the first time, I felt a sense of accomplishment. I finally knew what I wanted to do with my life, my friends to help carry me through I could become the best football player I could be. With acceptance into college with a Division I football team, though, I could go even further toward realizing my dream.
“Life could be a dream”