Coy Draheim Mr.

Neuburger English 101-130 29 February, 2012 Descriptive Essay The First Game Sitting on the slick and solid metal bench a thousand emotions were running through my head like joggers in a marathon. Looking down at my new, black, Nike shoes I wondered if the time was actually here. Was the most frightening night of my sixteen year old life about to happen? I slowly slipped on my shoes, along with my pants and leg pads as the locker room quickly fell quiet. Coaches paced around as players sat in their own world, each one dealing with the inevitable in their own way; like prisoners facing death row. It was our first game of the freshman football season, and it showed in everyones eyes. We would be playing our arch rival the Kickapoo Chiefs, and the anticipation for it had been building up steadily for what seemed like several years. This was the game each of us had waited for, whispering silently in the halls and dreaming deeply at night about how important it would be to go into high school and beat the hated enemy in our first game. Now that the time was here I could feel the cold from the bench seeping silently into my legs and dashing throughout my body. Every sense was amplified and even the smallest movement in the room garnished many pairs of piercing eyes. Everyone was judging each other seeing what the next move would be; we were a jury of well-known friends. Finally tension broke as coach let slide the words everyone in the room knew was coming but hoped would never happen. Its time fellas, a sentence so simple, but one carrying so much power. All players as if in unison rose to their feet and placed their pads over their head and onto their shoulders. I will never forget that feeling of being so trapped by something of my

choice; a feeling like jumping into a hole that you knew was there. The pads already smelled from weeks of practice and the bright, red, game day jersey had never looked so much like a prison uniform in my short high school life. Apart from the awkward sound of a hundred cleated shoes on the concrete, the march through the hallways of a school seemed like an eternity. I just wanted to make that mad dash for the doors and into the daylight; but for us in this death march there would be no escape. Hearing yourself breathe so loudly was something I was not accustomed to, but as I made my way to the field I felt as if my breathing was a jet engine, primed and ready to take off. The beating of my heart stayed in perfect tune with my breath. Both working hard to let me fully realize my future was here and, after weeks waiting and wondering it would not be long until I knew what it meant to play high school football. Going through the door and stepping into the shining sun made me realize how much freedom could be found right in front of me. All around were ways to wander away, but for me the path was set and the journey my teammates and I were about to take had already been decided. For us, there was only one direction, and it was to the field we all dreamed of playing on. It truly is a funny feeling you get when you feel as if your hours on this earth have come to an end and there is no more time. It was like being trapped at the bottom of the ocean with your oxygen running out, mixed with free-falling in the farthest reaches of space. Walking across the fall grass and feeling every little thing showed me just how aware my senses were to my current predicament. The slightest wind brushing up against my skin, every rock or pebble that altered the direction of my feet, and the smell of September as it rolled on, passing in thirty days but already scheduling a visit for this time next year. So much can race through a wondering mind and at the same time very little at all. Part of me wanted to think about every part of my life, while another screamed out inside like a thousand crying babies to just face the next hour. As our final, fateful, march

headed to the field you began to hear something quite strange, the whisper of players as the field and stands rose up like a newly built coliseum that we had never viewed before. We had in fact been here many times, but never with this many multiples of men and women cheering us on. Hearing your closest friends begin to talk about the excitement racing through their veins can really give a guy some confidence found in the farthest corners of your previous corpse. Five minutes ago I was dead, now I dared to let my mind dash to thoughts that I thought were previously just dreams. We could really win this game, may be no one would get hurt, and there might be some crazy coincidence of chance that I might just make a big play. I strolled with a steady new step down the hill and onto the field with my teammates, like a rock star knowing he is about to wow thousands of fans. Confidence can be tough to come by, but once you find it and realize it was there all along, its incredible how powerful it can be. The next hour of my life would finally be filled with friends, family, and a competitive game against an arch nemesis. Following that, I would realize the game was the easiest part of the day. The battle had been won and was over way before I ever set foot on the field. Like a light bulb going off multiple times above my head I would quickly understand; the hardest part of beating Kickapoo that day was winning the battle within me fought furiously in a locker room of fellow teammates over something I could never imagine, confidence.