Introducing NKD

 Self-story

The whistle blew. Before I knew what had happened, I was on the ground and couldn’t get up. As I sat there in pain, I saw my teammates running towards me. Still to this point, I don’t know what had happened. A fight broke out between the two teams. The ref quickly broke it up. My coach ran over to my side and picked me up. I yelled as he picked me up. They called for the athletic trainer to come over with the golf cart and told someone to get an ambulance over to the fields for me.

Before I go on, I need to explain how I got to this point, it started about a month ago. We were at practice when our coach told us that we were going to be playing in a tournament. Of course, I was super happy with the idea and asked when the first game was. “We have a month until the first game,” he said. One by one the rest of the team said they were excited to go and play. The next day at school, I was so excited to tell my friends that we are playing in a tournament in Orlando. A few of them were happy for us, and the others didn’t care too much, but they were also the ones who didn’t like our club. So their opinion didn’t affect me as much. I went through the day pretty happy with the fact that we were finally playing in another tournament. When it came time for practice, we had some conditioning drills and some other types of drills. In the end, we ended up scrimmaging ourselves. The rest of the time in between the tournament flew by. The next thing I remember, it was the week of the tournament. Still excited, I got up and got ready for school. As the day went on, my teachers decided to give homework in every class. Which is expected, but still sucked. Five of my teachers had decided to give us essays that were due the next morning. I got them done but ended up skipping my workout for the day as a result of it. 

The next day flew by, and practice was finally here. I was expecting to play well but ended up playing the worst I’ve ever done. No matter what I did, I couldn’t calm myself down. I drove home pissed that day and went straight to bed. The next day, I went to school as though nothing had happened, and the day went mostly normal, except for a few pop quizzes, which sent my grade plummeting to a C in the grade book. When I got home, I started getting ready for practice and went straight there. Again, I played really badly and went home pissed off. At this point, I was seriously thinking about this being my last season of the sport, and focusing on academics. If I did decide to quit, I would have to wait until the end of the season. So I decided that if this weekend didn’t go well, that would be my last season.

The weekend came, and I was getting ready for the game, listening to music while my parents were driving.  We got to the fields, me as eggar as could be, got out there and started passing with the team. At this point, there were about five of us there passing the ball around. As I put my shin guards and cleats on, one of my teammates ran up to me. “How are you doing today Nate,” he said? “I’m doing fine, how about you,” I asked? “I’m doing fine,” he said. “That’s good,” I said. As more and more of our teammates got to the field, we started to get warmed up. We got in our positions, for the start of our game.

The whistle blew for the start of the game. “Step up” I yelled, addressing the defense. Ten minutes pass, we scored our first goal. 1-0 as we lead within the first few minutes. Another ten minutes pass, and we were given a corner kick. My friend Nick ran up to take the corner kick. The defender headed the ball out of the box, and they started a counter-attack. They had 3 players running on the counter-attack, while we only had two defenders back. We had just got lucky, as one of the attackers missed the shot. The rest of the game went smoothly, and we won the game 3-1. The next game came along, which we won again. This time, the score was 2-1 us. The final game was to take place on Sunday at 4 P.M. Which was pretty nice of a time to have a game. 

Hours passed, and it was time for the final. We started to warm-up, and it was going as smoothly as you could think. It finally came time for the final game to start. The whistle blew, and we started to play. After the first half, the score was 0-0. About 10 minutes left of the game, the ball was sent down the middle. Before I knew what had happened, I was on the ground and couldn’t get up. As I sat there in pain, I saw my teammates running towards me. Still, I don’t know what had happened. A fight broke out between the two teams. The ref quickly broke it up. My coach ran over to my side and picked me up. I yelled as he picked me up. He stopped. They called for the athletic trainer to come over with the golf cart and told someone to get an ambulance over to the fields for me. We would go to win the game, but just barely. The final score read 2-1 us. The next two weeks were full of recovery, and the third week, I prematurely played in a tournament again. I didn’t do too bad, but I definitely felt that I went into the tournament a little prematurely. You need to explain at some point what your actual injury was.