Today is Saturday, a typical, game day Saturday. I started the day waking up feeling all sorts of feelings. One minute I felt perturbation and the other I felt enthusiastic. There was no in between. I leisurely rolled out of my bed and managed to get myself dressed. As I strolled upstairs to pack my bag I got short, choppy, flashbacks of previous games. While I sat there stuffing my gear into my bag, a rush of adrenaline came into me like a waterfall. After I was done packing my gear I grabbed a breakfast bar, and my mother and I hit the road. An hour and a half later we had arrived at the Wausau Ice Arena. My mom pulled up to the doors; I got out and walked to the back of the car, got my bag and headed on inside. Once I got inside, teammates …show more content…
The sound of my teammates unzipping their bags and undoing velcro just made me more anxious to get out on the ice. The cacophonous sound of the buzzer went off which meant it was time to buckle our helmets, and head on out. Just as we were heading out, you could hear the boisterous sound of the other team getting pumped up in their locker room. Then a second later the door swung open and our opponents came, walking to their bench with the same excitement they had in the locker room. I then turned my attention, and focus on our half of the ice. After skating in half circles for what felt like ten years, that same cacophonous sound of the buzzer went off-- we all got in a huddle in front of our bench, and our coach tells us the typical Saturday game plan. Try your hardest; work for it; win battles; and finally, push yourself. We all go, “Wizards on three. One two three, Wizards!” I skated to the left side of the face off, put a firm grip on my stick, and got into my position. The flute sound of the refs whistle blew and the puck was dropped. The game had …show more content…
We’ve lost before but this time was different. There wasn’t any effort from any of the players and we were constantly losing battles. Drained and beat, our team slowly gathered ourselves up, and took a seat while we waited for our coach. The door swung open as our coach walked in with a disquieted look on his face. He sat down-- you could see disappointment written all over his face. For the next twelve or so minutes, he went on and on about how we played. It was the worst we have ever played and he made that clear. It wasn’t until I really understood that it was that bad when I started feeling a pain inside of me. Then, as I listened to each word that sprawled out of his mouth, that pain inside of me kept inching it’s way out. Finally, I caved and just started sobbing. “What’s wrong?,” my coach said, as he stopped what he was talking about and looked at me. “I’m sorry,” I said with my head down, looking into my hands. He then said it was okay and returned to what he was talking about. After he stopped talking and I got all my gear off, I went into the lobby and the minute I saw my mom I ran to her, and once again I started sobbing. A minute or two after some full on out sobbing I stopped. I then grabbed my bag and headed on out to the car. In the car, I thought over a thousand times about what I did and how I could fix