Feelings of a Benchwarmer

October 26, 2009
I sit on the bench for yet another game, tears welling up in my eyes as the same old people pant on the court, their usually perky, high ponytails floppy, as if they too are subdued. They beg the coaches for a rest with their eyes, and hack up a storm as they charge, defeated and dragging their feet, to the other side of the court for yet another round of not-really-in- it defense. Meanwhile, fresh and eager, ready to play me sits on the bench because of my past. My managing the team because I’m not good enough to play days are over. My obliviousness to the game days are over. My intensity is on and I’m ready to kick some butt in a game I’ve never been given the chance to play. I can admit to the fact that our guard players and our perky point deserve their playing time with hard work, but sometimes their attitudes suggest otherwise. Sometimes I wish that the coaches could see what goes on when they’re NOT listening. I long for the days when I will be able to actually be seen for what ability I have managed to obtain over the last few months, and not for the ability I had two years ago, or even two months ago, for I am drastically improving though no one is watching. I long for the time when I will understand why I get treated the way I do, for there are days when I go home and bawl for an hour because I have absolutely no idea why a hard working, talented player like me gets over looked as much as the coach allows me to be over looked. But amidst the undesirable looks and comments from fans, fellow players, and coaches, I stash up my tears for the end and then cry a river, for I know that the words coming out of everyone’s mouths are not fair ones. I know that the order in which sweaty girls get shuffled in for the fourth time is not accurate, yet it still occurs. I know that life is not fair, and that I need to keep my head high, never give up, and always keep believing in integrity and the fact that I can prosper even if no one sees it, and that I will know even if no one else does. I need to remember, but sometimes it’s hard…when you’re a benchwarmer.





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