First Person Narrative

January 19, 2018
By Anonymous

First Person Narrative -
I take pride in my number. 87. The number of my 2nd favorite tight end, Travis Kelce.
I had to leave Thursday behind, Friday obsolete, and on Saturday, we played the Eagles, so I needed to build the confidence I needed.
For this one particular hour I bleed my heart and soul into the field. I needed to prove to my teammates, to my coaches that I was worthy.
I wasn’t starting, but I was thirsty, my defensive end heart hurting.
The turf, the artificial grass, the benches filled with people, needed to see my true power.
The team we were facing weren’t afraid. For they hit hard, and mean. And when I watched them, I was burning with rage. My defensive coach saw me, and knew.
“2nd Defense! Milo! Milo!”
Like I said, I was starting, but if I proved myself right there, right then, I would love to eat the first place spot right away.
I lined up in a 2 point stance, hands up, ready to hit.
Also, not much was said from either sideline. This team wanted to win just as much as. But the only thing they had advantage on us was sportsmanship. “Good job 87!” number 52 said.
I gave him a nod, and even shook his hand especially after the game. They had a really cool lineman as well. 47. He was incredibly big, and our center cheap shotted him to bring him out of  the game. I yelled at him, as we also got a penalty. We deserved that. I checked on him as well.
But aside from that, I had line up near the line of scrimmage, and waited for the ball to move. One play, the lineman in front of me hadn’t moved when the ball did, so as the QB on the opposing team had said “Hutt!”, and the ball moved, I put all my brute force into one push. And play after play, I was dominating the kid. I blocked him on Kickoff special team, and even still. Me and him shook hands. I had really liked that team. So much I wondered what’d be like if I was on their team. But family stays with family.
But still. Like anybody, I had lost my train of thought on the last play. I got him out of my way, hungry for the QB. I was right in front of him. Ready to tackle. Just as I get to him,
Runningback. He hit me. I congratulated him on it.
Nice block, really.
Next week, we play Daly City.


The author's comments:

During my first year of football, I had an immersive experience, and I felt I should share a story.


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