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Running in a line, clumped unevenly together, my team ran out of the locker room with a burst of energy as the crowd slowly acknowledged our arrival on to the court. I glanced around to see who might be watching this anticipated win, and to look for my mom's face up in the stands. I nervously waited for the ball to complete my first lay-up of the night, to ease my way into the game atmosphere. My fear of getting hurt again haunted my mind, and the fear was affecting my athletic performance. The thought of spraining my ankle again chilled my body with apprehension. It really hurt me as a player not being able to play the sport I loved.
I knew that the only thing to do was to stay strong and cheer for my teammates. The game had begun and my team had the ball. I watched my teammates hustle around the court and look for an open shot. Scrambling for time and an open player, the girls tried to keep the ball under control. Eventually, a point was scored and the other team brought the ball out. I can still remember cheering for my friend, after her fifteen-foot jump shot.
I yelled more encouraging words to my teammates hoping that my coach would somehow notice my efforts. I sprang up out of my seat to acknowledge a great steal by another team player, and I gazed with excitement in suspense for her to score. I watched and cheered throughout the whole game. I finally heard my name called, "Trace!" said Coach Hanover; and she gave me my directions. I patiently waited for an out of bounds ball to come so that I could get on the court. The buzzer rang, and the referee signaled for me to come in to replace one of my teammates.
My mom cheered frantically because she knew my playing time was at a minimum, and she knew how important getting a few minutes of playing time was to me. I remember distinctly that I ran to the left side of the court and set in position for a corner shot. I seemed to have perfected this shot while being out because of my beat up, bruised ankle. I made eye contacted with my teammate, and the ball was passed to me.
Nervously I grabbed it and took the shot. Swish. My first two points of the season were scored! From that moment on I can't remember quite what happened. Although if I could go back in time to the feeling I had when my team came together to congratulate me, I would sprain my ankle all over again. The idea of being able to show my ability coming off from an injury was incredible.
That shot I made was the emotional release I had been waiting for. I won't forget the feeling I had when my coach smiled at me and told me how well I did. I can't imagine my life without the experience of sitting the bench due to injuries for a whole season. I most definitely became a stronger person, and I a lot of people asked me why I didn't just quit. I told them that quitting was not my forte, and I could not quit on something for which I had such a passion. I explained to them that even though I may not be on the track to becoming a professional basketball player, I was determined that I would never quit for something so silly as not enough playing time.
I learned that a team is not a team without encouragement from every teammate. I also learned that even though life is not always full of what you want, it does not always mean you should quit. I think that my will power for issues surrounding my life have definitely been put into perspective. Once I set my mind to something, there is no stopping me from achieving that goal. If I fail than I will just have to try, try, and try again.
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Research essay sample on Playing Time Team Shot
